A DOOR IN TIME Revised
by Silvertayl 57
Summary: Sam and Dean investigate the deaths of 3 students at the Ohio University Campus, in Athens. Is the vengeful spirit of a former patient from the abandoned mental asylum responsible or is this something the brothers have never encountered before?
1. Chapter 1

**A DOOR IN TIME (REVISED)**

_A Supernatural story by: Silvertayl _

**Story Summary:**

Sam and Dean investigate the deaths of 3 students at the Ohio State Campus, in Athens. Is the vengeful spirit of a former patient from the abandoned mental asylum responsible or is this something the brothers have never encountered before?

Set in season 1 after 1:13 Route 666.

**Disclaimer: **

All recognizable characters remain the property of their respective creators and owners.

**Authors Notes:**

This is being posted without a beta. So forgive grammatical and spelling mistakes.

**Chapter 1 **

_**Thursday, Monroe, Louisiana**_

Dean had been unusually quiet after leaving Cassie and Cape Girardeau behind. Sam could tell that Cassie meant a lot to his brother and leaving her was harder for Dean than he was letting on.

But then they'd picked up the trail of a witch causing havoc in Louisiana and that was all it took to get Dean back to his usual self. 

That was 10 days ago and it had been over a week since they'd sent that evil bitch of a witch back to the dark place she had crawled from, but it had been hard on them and not without consequences. She had banged them both around quite a bit; scratched up Sam's face pretty good and spewed her bodily fluids all over them and everything else in a 5 meter radius.

With that hunt over they were looking for a new gig. In the past they always managed to pick another hunt, usually straight away or within a couple of days, but nothing now was forthcoming and it had been a whole week, a whole week for the bumps, bruises and scratches to heal and still here they were stuck in this run-down motel on the outskirts of Louisiana.

And they were starting to get on each other's nerves... big time.

Dean lay stretched out on his bed arms locked behind his head, feet crossed at the ankles, staring at the damp patch on the ceiling, he had come to know that patch of ceiling quite well; the shape reminded him of an elephant with its trunk raised up.

Sam was sitting at the small Formica topped table with the laptop open, scanning for anything that might get them back on the road and outta this hole.

That's when Dean began to hum.

It sounded to Sam like AC/DC's _Highway to Hell_, but he couldn't be sure, because he was off key. Dean moved his foot in time with the beat only he could hear in his head.

"Dude, don't give up your day job." Sam observed sarcastically.

"Sorry Sammy, but I've had it with this place. I'm bored, oh and by the way we don't officially have a day job most of our work is in the dark, at night right? So it doesn't qualify as a day job," he paused turning his head towards Sam, "you'd better be seriously looking for a hunt, and not surfing the porn sites."

"Get your mind outta' the gutter, Dean."

Sam returned Dean's look from across the small room. His brother was so aggravating when he was bored, more aggravating than usual. _I gotta find us a hunt before I commit fratricide. _

Dean didn't answer, going back to his contemplation of the ceiling his full lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile.

Ten minutes later.

"Hey Dean."

"Umm."

"Maybe we could just see if we can pick up dad's trail again?"

Dean sat up. "Sam, you know I want to find dad as much as you do, but, man I gotta tell ya I don't think he wants to be found."

"Yeah I guess." Sam sounded disheartened as he went back to the computer.

Seeing Sam's crestfallen face Dean decided to lighten the mood. "Hey I've got an idea. While we're down this way maybe we could pop on over to Disney World?"

"Are you serious?" Sam said eyes going back to Dean.

"Absolutely."

"I don't think so." Sam said with shake of his head.

"Spoil sport." Dean said as he lay back down.

Another ten minutes later.

"Dean hey, you awake? I think I got something."

Dean lifted his head and looked at Sam, "Yeah I'm awake, thank god, what you got."

Sam's hazel eyes slid to Dean and then back to the screen.

Dean was looking at Sam intently, waiting for him to continue, the fading scratches on Sam's right cheek left by the witch, still visible, but healing nicely, he waited, and waited. Not a word from Sam. The silence was deafening.

Sam knew Dean was watching him, waiting for him to spill about this possible hunt, so Sam deliberately said nothing, waiting for Dean to lose his cool, he also knew it wouldn't take long. Sam started to count up from 1 in his head; he was only up to 7 before Dean said through gritted teeth.

"Sam, are you gonna spill it or do you wanna die before dinner time?"

"Well that didn't take long, I only got to 7," he chuckled at the irritated expression on Dean's face and the angry flash of Dean's green eyes, "you should see your face."

"So not funny Sam."

"Okay, okay don't get your boxers in a twist." Still smiling Sam turned back to the laptop.

Dean lowered his head, and went back to his friend the elephant, as Sam at long last began to read from the online newspaper from Ohio.

THIRD MYSTERIOUS DEATH ON ATHENS CAMPUS

_The body of 19 year old Ian Collins was found on the upper level of the only unused building in the Athens Ohio State College Campus on Sunday, 7 days after he went missing from the abandoned building formerly the Athens Asylum for the Insane, Mr. Collins was taking part in a fraternity initiation, and was required to stay overnight in the old asylum to be accepted into the fraternity, a week later his body was found there. An autopsy revealed Mr. Collins died from some kind of brain damage, the coroner said he believed the cause of the damage was from a medical procedure called a Lobotomy that had been performed on Mr. Collins which led to Mr. Collins' death. _

_A month ago, 2 college students Sally Browning and Steven Ashton both 20 disappeared from the same building after a student organized party, the last time Miss Browning and Mr. Ashton were seen alive they were ascending the stairs to the upper level. After the party they could not be located, their bodies were found 7 days later near where they disappeared. The cause of death the same as Mr. Collins. The coroner's report said all three victims had only been deceased for a few hours before discovered. _

_Police are baffled as to the whereabouts of the victims between the time of disappearance and the time of death. Investigations are continuing into the mysterious deaths._

_Lobotomies were performed as a treatment for people suffering with mental conditions such as depression and schizophrenia, a number of patients either died or were left in a catatonic or vegetative state by these procedures. Lobotomies have not been used on the mentally disabled for many decades._

_The campus authorities have erected a steel security fence around the old Asylum to prevent anyone from entering, and to hopefully avoid and prevent any further disappearances and subsequent deaths._

Dean's curiosity was peeked, by the time Sam had finished reading he had sat up and swung his legs off the bed.

"Now that is a little weird, you think it might be something like Dr Ellicott and the Roosevelt Asylum?"

"Makes sense an angry spirit of a patient seeking revenge on some wacko doctor who used to enjoy using these so called treatments on people with sick brains." Sam answered looking over at his now serious brother.

"So these kids all went missing on a Saturday night, their bodies found after 7 days, on the Sunday, which means they died on the Saturday night exactly 1 week later."

"They must have been held somewhere for days before someone or something turned their brain to mush."

Dean stood, picked up his duffle bag and started to throw things into it.

Sam still sat at the table, watching Dean's sudden flurry of movement.

"So I guess this means we're outta here?"

Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam. "Yep finally, look lively dude we've got work to do."

15 minutes later, Dean pulled the door too on the elephant joined Sam at the trunk of the Impala throwing his duffle in next to Sam's. A minute later the big car peeled out of that lousy Monroe motel pointed in the direction of Athens Ohio.

_**Saturday Athens, Ohio**_

After dropping all their gear at the Ohio University Inn; a 3.5-star improvement from the last their last digs, they were back in the Impala.

Dean dropped Sam off outside the Athens library, noting the smile of anticipation on Sam's face at the idea of spending a few hours in a library doing research into the history of the old asylum. Dean drove on to the college campus with a fake state police ID in his pocket, to talk to the kids who had last seen the now deceased students before their disappearance.

Three hours later he looked at his watch, almost 4, Sam should be finished at the library by now. Flipping open his cell he connected to Sam's number, after 3 rings he heard Sam's hushed, tinny sounding voice. "Hey Dean."

"You finished Sam, or do you need more time to finish your love affair with those musty old books?" Dean knew how much Sam loved to do research, the ex college boy was in his element in some old damp smelling library, surrounded by old tomes and even older librarians, Sam could have the library, Dean much preferred to do what he considered the real work.

"Ha ha very funny, yeah I'm finished."

"Sam, why are you whispering?" Dean asked he knew the answer, but couldn't resist a chance to pull Sam's chain.

Sam almost hissed the answer down the phone. "Because I'm in a library jerk and I'm not supposed to have my cell turned on," Sam paused than added, "did you get anything outta those kids?"

Dean chuckled, before answering. "Nar not a lot but a couple of things that might be useful, what about you?"

"Well it turns out that old asylum building has quite a past, come pick me up, I'll tell you back at the motel."

"Okay, I'll be there in a few." Dean closed his phone and still smiling made his way towards his baby.

- ADIT -

"So what did you find out?" Dean asked loosening his tie and flopping down on the bed.

"You first."

"The two guys who were with the Collins kid left him there around 11 on the Saturday night, they went back the next morning, no sign of him, they thought he had chickened out and gone back to the dorm. When he hadn't been seen for 3 days, they notified the college, police were called in, they found his body the next Sunday when they went back to find more evidence, that's about it."

"It's not a lot, what about the couple before that went missing from the party, and did you find out anything there?"

"I talked to some of the kids that were at the party, apparently Sally and Steven went up to the top level around 11.30 to make out. I think Steven was hoping for a bit of action, if you know what I mean?" Dean said with an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah Dean I get it, and then what?"

"After the party broke up they couldn't be located, police were called in again, came up with nothing again. After that the campus put in security patrols morning and night, it was a security guard who found their bodies on the Sunday morning a week after they disappeared from the party, the rest we know, so what did you find out about the old building? " Dean asked.

"The college kids weren't the first deaths in that building. I found an article from 2 years ago, the body of a man was found in the old asylum. The body was badly decomposed and had been there for some time. The autopsy couldn't determine the cause or time of death. He was identified with dental records as a Joseph Mannering, a vagrant for many years, which is why no one missed him."

"So whatever killed whose kids is probably responsible for Mannering's death as well, a total of 4 that we know of." Dean was serious now "We don't know about Mannering but whatever is taking these kids is taking them on a Saturday night and it's only a matter of time before somebody gets back into that building on a Saturday night, and becomes another victim, we'll go tonight and see if whatever this thing is shows up."

Sam nodded. "Okay I'll go and get us something to eat and some coffee," Sam picked up a sheaf of papers and held them out to Dean, "here you should read this, it's the history of the asylum. They used to do some cruel stuff to those poor people."

Dean took the papers from Sam and began to read. Sam grabbed the car keys and headed to the door, his hand was turning the handle when Dean said "Hey Sam none of that healthy stuff, bring me a burger and fries."

Sam glanced over his shoulder at Dean. "Dude, ever heard of cholesterol and blocked arteries?"

"I'll have you know; my arteries are fine thanking you very much, Dr Winchester."

"Yeah sure they are, Dean."

Dean smiled as the door closed behind Sam and started to read.

_**The Athens Asylum for the Insane**__ opened its doors on __**January 9, 1874**__. Giant asylums were going up all over America because of the number of __**Civil War**__ veterans suffering from what we now call__** post-traumatic stress disorder**__, the cemetery contains many veterans from the __**Civil War**__._

_Listed below are some of the treatments administered to patient._

_**Water Treatment**_

_Patients were submerged in ice-cold water for extended periods of time._

_Sometimes they were wrapped in sheets which had been soaked in ice water and restrained._

_**Shock Therapy**_

_Electric shocks were administered to patients submerged in water tanks or, more commonly, directly to the temples by the application of brine soaked electrodes. A patient held a rubber piece in his mouth to prevent him from biting off his tongue, during convulsions which followed a treatment. _

_**Lobotomy**__**(original)**_

_Patients had their skulls opened and their neural passages separated midway through the brain. This difficult and arduous procedure killed many people - those who survived were brain damaged and like infants forgetting how to control everyday bodily functions, such as going to the toilet._

_**Lobotomy (Trans-Orbital)**_

_Developed by Dr. William Franklin in the early 1950s, was widely used through the sixties. This method involved knocking the patient unconscious with electric shocks, then rolling the eyelid back and inserting a thin metal ice pick like instrument through a tear duct. A mallet was used to tap the instrument into the brain. Next it was moved back and forth in a sawing motion to sever the neural receptors. Sometimes this was done in both eyes. There is some evidence that this method helped some people with severe conditions, but more often the patient suffered side effects resulting in a catatonic state or in a lot of cases death._

_The final patients left __**The Athens Asylum**__**for the Insane**__ in 1993 and the building stood vacant for several years whilst Ohio University prepared to renovate it and other buildings on the soon to be campus. In 2001, the main building was opened to students as the __**Athens Ohio University Campus**__. However the old Asylum building is the only building on the campus that remains un-renovated._

This information had left Dean feeling sick to his stomach and his appetite had fled. _Man, how could anyone do that to another human being? _

He threw the papers on the bed beside him rubbing at his forehead with his fingertips.

Sam returned a few minutes later juggling a grease spotted paper bag a plastic tub of salad and two large take-out coffee cups.

Dean's appetite returned with a vengeance when he smelled the aroma of the take-out emanating from the bag Sam had placed on the table.

Dean stood and crossed to the table rubbing his hands together.

"Mmmm I smell fried food." He said with delight as he sat down, reached into the brown bag pulling out a large cheeseburger and large fries.

Sam sat down opposite his brother his brow furrowed as Dean took a bite from the burger and shoved a half dozen fries in his mouth.

"Dude, you are sick, how can you eat that?" He said as he opened up his container of garden salad and poked his plastic fork into the contents.

"It's easy Sam you just open your mouth, bite off a piece, chew and swallow.

"I'm laughing on the inside."

"Better eat your rabbit food Sammy before Bugs comes along and steals it." Dean replied as he took another huge bite from the burger.

"It's Sam."

_**Saturday evening at the Asylum**_

Using the bolt cutters Sam made short work of the padlock on the gates of the steel and mesh 10 foot high fence surrounding the asylum. They each had their handguns tucked into the waistband of the jeans and each carried a salt gun and a flash light. They shone the flash light onto the ground in front of them as they made their way up the steps and through the asylum entrance.

The floor was scattered with all kinds of debris - broken tables, chairs, wooden door frames, mouldy cushions, broken bottles and aluminium cans. Everywhere was covered with a thick layer of dirt and grime. A sliver of moonlight shone through the broken windows, illuminating various sections of the floor and walls.

Sam looked at Dean in the dim light. "Why would anyone want to party in here?" He asked.

"Beats me, you check around down here I'll go upstairs, yell if you find something."

Dean headed towards the stairs.

Sam had a strange feeling that something wasn't right as he watched him go.

"Dean." Sam called out.

Dean turned back shining the flash light in Sam's direction.

"What is it?"

"Be careful Dean."

"Yeah Sammy you know I will."

- ADIT-

Dean made his way up the uneven stairs shining his flash light on each step so he could avoid treading on something and either turning an ankle or tumbling back down the stairs and maybe breaking his neck. At the top of the stairs opposite was an elevator shaft a barricade that had once guarded the shaft lay to one side. To his left was a long corridor with a half dozen rusty metal doors evenly shaped out on each side. Every door had a small metal grill about 5 feet from the bottom and a number above the grill. He stepped up to the closest door, using the handle; he pulled the door towards him with a rusty squeal. In the torch light Dean could see a small cell-like room roughly 4 yards across by 4 yards deep the window on the outside wall was bricked in. Pushed up against one wall was an old bed frame with a very old, dirty mattress haphazardly resting half on the base, stuffing and springs protruding through rips in the stripy fabric.

He looked into two more of the rooms that appeared to him more like cells than a hospital room as he continued to the end of the corridor. To the left was a recessed area with a waist-high dust and dirt covered counter open at the far end to allow access. Above the counter a sign reading **NURSES STATION **hung lopsided from the ceiling by a short chain and one hook.

To the right opposite the nurse's station was another long corridor with two doors on each side. The first room on the left had a sign above reading **WATER TREATMENT**. Dean pushed the door open. The room was large. The 2 windows in here were also bricked in. It contained 5 tubs the size of the average man spaced evenly across the center, the tubs clawed feet still bolted firmly to the floor. Against the far wall were two deep square sinks with a rusty tap protruding from the wall above each of them.

Dean remembered the notes he had read earlier about this so called treatment.

"Water treatments huh, more like water torture, if you ask me." Dean said to himself.

Exiting the water room he went into the room opposite with a sign reading **SHOCK THERAPY **above it. This room was smaller than the water treatment room. The window in here wasn't bricked up, but the glass pane was long gone and there were rusting metal bars covering the opening. An older style gurney with huge wheels was tipped over on its side. Jutting from the wall were numbered lever type power switches with thick discolored conduit running from the switches up to the ceiling.

Dean couldn't think of being electrocuted as being therapeutic; he remembered all too clearly when he'd fired the tazer at the raw head; the current traveling through the foul-smelling ugly-assed creature into puddle of scummy water he was sprawled in. The feeling of electricity coursing through his body was something he would never forget. His brain felt like it was short circuiting his heart expanding to the point of exploding. The thought of having to endure that torment regularly as the patients here must have, sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. He made a hasty exit from the room.

The remaining rooms had signs proclaiming them to be - **PROCEDURE ROOM – NO. 1 **and **PROCEDURE ROOM – NO. 2**. Both rooms had the same power levers on the walls and were empty except for a another gurney in treatment room 2, the restraining straps still attached. Dean could almost see some poor soul lying prostrate and restrained on that gurney with an ice-pick protruding from his eye;_ rolling the eyelid back and inserting a thin metal ice pick like instrument through a tear duct._

Dean went back into the corridor; _nothing up here, maybe Sam found something?_ At the end of the treatment room corridor he turned into the corridor of cells and stopped dead; something had changed, the temperature had dropped suddenly. He stopped and shone the flash light around to see if there was something to explain the change in temperature. The air in front of him began to shift and shimmer. He blinked his eyes a couple of times to make sure it wasn't his eyes, _still there,_ _this is different _thenas suddenly as it had begun it stopped, the temperature had risen and air had stopped shifting, but now the corridor looked different, clean and bright no rubbish scattered around.

- ADIT -

Sam had finished on the ground floor. He had located a wing of largish rooms that had probably housed up to a dozen or patients in each; the kitchen area and what could have been a large communal dining area; the only remaining pieces of furniture in here were a couple of broken dining chairs tossed into the corner. A smaller room off the dining room looked to have been used as a lounge/recreational room with a bracket for a TV still attached to the wall.

Sam was beginning to think that whoever or whatever is responsible for the recent deaths was a no show tonight.

He glanced at his watch, the small beam of the flash light illuminating the watch face _five after midnight, I wonder if Dean found anything upstairs?_

Sam slowly made his way back through the empty rooms and stood at the bottom of the stairs listening for any sounds of Dean descending from the floor above.

"Dean you found anything? There's nothing down here. I think this is a waste of time." His voice echoing up the stairwell, there was no reply.

"Dean." Still there was silence. So Sam started up the stairs.

- ADIT -

Dean felt a hand grasp tightly onto his upper arm spinning him around a voice hissed in his ear. "How did you get out of your room?"

Dean found himself face-to-face with a white uniform. His eyes traveled up to the angry face that was attached to the uniform. To Dean, this guy looked like he had just stepped out of a wrestling ring. Everything about him was huge – his muscles were bulging through the material of his white coat and the veins in his neck looked ready to burst. _Man! This is one ugly guy!_

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked, "and you can get your hand off me dude!"

"Come on now. I don't wanna have to use force. Let me take you back to your room."

Dean tried to pry the huge man's sausage fingers from his arm. "You're not takin' me anywhere."

The big guy sighed saying. "Looks like we're gonna have to do this the hard way," with a smirk on his face, he called out, "Frank need you here, we've got a problem."

Dean lifted his free hand intending to jab the salt gun under the guy's jaw; but his hand was empty, yet he didn't remember putting it down or dropping it. _Not good. Okay plan B._

Dean reached for the hand gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. His pistol was gone and so were his jeans. He looked down the length of his body to see he was now wearing a pair of regulation hospital pajamas and his feet were bare.

"What the hell?" Dean felt the hand he had still hovering at his waist grasped and bent upwards. He glanced over his shoulder at a second man equally as large and as ugly as the first man.

Dean began to struggle to free himself from their grip only to have the

first guy twist his other arm back behind him so he was completely

incapacitated.

"Matron Reed sedative required for the patient from room 6." The guy named Frank shouted.

Dean's shocked eyes went to the portly older woman in a nurse's uniform approaching them brandishing a large hypodermic needle.

Dean began to struggle in earnest. "Nonono you ain't jabbing me with that lady!" Dean said as he fought to release himself from the ever tightening and painful grip of the thugs.

"Now, now. Just a little prick, won't hurt at all." Matron Reed lifted the syringe and squirted a small amount into the air. Then smiled as she lifted the sleeve of Dean's pajama top and roughly jabbed the needle into his upper arm injecting the clear fluid.

"This can't be happening." Dean said through clenched teeth at the sting from the needle.

Within a matter of seconds, Dean could feel the effects of the drug coursing through his bloodstream. The face of the matron standing in front of him started to waver and blur and his limbs felt heavy, knees felt weak and would no longer hold his own weight.

Moments later he was being half dragged half carried down the corridor his arms still twisted behind his back. "Sam… Sammy." He murmured weakly.

A doorway swam into view he was dragged unceremoniously through it. The pressure on his arms was released as he was roughly thrown down onto a cot and then he knew no more.

_**To be continued…**_

Thanks for reading please review.

Cheers

_Silvertayl_


	2. Chapter 2

**A DOOR IN TIME (REVISED)**

_A Supernatural story by: Silvertayl _

**Disclaimer and Story Summary:**

See Chapter 1

**Authors Notes:**

This is being posted without a beta. So forgive grammatical and spelling mistakes.

Thanks to all who reviewed chapter 1, here's chapter 2.

**Chapter 2**

_**Sunday morning at the Asylum**_

On reaching the upper floor; Sam made his way along the corridor of rooms, calling out his brother's name andlooking into every room for any sign of Dean. Outside the lastroomthe flash light caught on something shiny lying on the floor. He bent down to get a closer look.

He found a pile of things each one he recognized. The largest of which was the salt gun Dean had in his hand when he came up here. Dean's pistol, the flash light he had with him, his watch, ring and his amulet necklace, still on the brown leather cord. _Dean cherishes the amulet he never takes that or the ring off, why would he leave these, his guns and his watch here? It doesn't__ any__ make sense._

Sam stood. "Dean where are you? You'd better not be screwin' around. This is so not funny." Sam said as he turned a circle in the corridor.

There was no reply and no hint that there was anyone up here but him.

Sam bent and picked up Dean's .45 he pushed into the waistband at the back of his jeans beside his own pistol. The watch, ring and necklace he pushed deep into the pocket of his jeans. The salt gun and flash light he held in his free hand.

He continued his search, his stomach now churning with worry for his brother.

Sam had looked everywhere into all the treatment rooms, the nurses' station, and all of the rooms for a second time. He had even shone the light down the old elevator shaft that was opposite the stairs, expecting to see Dean's crumpled body lying at the bottom. The only thing he saw in the flash light was the accumulated rubbish at the bottom of the shaft.

Sam looked again at his watch in the flash light, twenty past one. He'd been searching up here for over an hour.

Descending the stairs much too quickly for the amount of light in the stairwell, Sam was lucky not to trip and fall.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. _I'll be no good to Dean with a broken ankle. _For a second time he covered the ground floor calling out his brother's name.

Dean was not here. _Oh god where could he have gone?_

A horrifying thought came to Sam _I__'__m not going to find him._ Dean had been taken like the others.

A vision of Dean's lifeless body lying on the floor upstairs in a week from now came unbidden into Sam's mind.

Sam shook his head in denial. "No," he shouted into the air of the empty asylum, his voice echoing back to him. "Its not gonna happen. You hear me? I'm going to stop it, somehow. I will find Dean and get him back alive."

Tears of sadness anger and frustration were pricking at the back of his eyes, his voice now quiet and shaking when he said. "Where are you, Dean?"

_**Sunday morning at the asylum, 1962**_

Dean could hear voices a man and a woman; they were having a conversation close by. _Hey trying to sleep here. What the hell you two doing in our motel room anyways?_

The fog in his head began to roll away and voices became clearer; he could hear their conversation.

"So you had to sedate him Matron?" The man inquired.

_Not Sam, so… where is Sam?_

The reply was clipped and authoritative. "I'm afraid so Dr. Franklin, he left us no choice. He somehow got out of his room, then when Ed and Frank tried to take him back he became agitated, fighting them and he didn't't know where he was or who we were."

_Are they talking about me? _He vaguely remembered saying to some ugly dude. _"Who the hell are you?" _

Dean opened his eyes; two faces swam into his vision as the last of the fog rolled away. The older woman her salt and pepper hair scraped up and back under a white nurses' cap looked from the man to him. _I've seen her before._

"He's awake doctor." She said. _Genius observation._

Dean looked at her companion.

The fiftyish man with mousy hair in a greased down comb over and an outdated suit that looked like something you'd find at the good will store leaned down into Dean's face.

"Young man can you hear me?" He almost shouted at him.

"_Yeah I can hear ya' I'm not deaf get the hell outta my face... where's Sam?" _Dean wanted to say, but his mouth was dry and his tongue so swollen he couldn't force the words around it.

The man the woman had called Doctor patted his shoulder saying. "Don't worry son we're taking good care of you, you'll feel better soon."

Dean wanted to shake off the doctor's hand, but couldn't summon the strength.

The doctor gave his shoulder a squeeze before he straightened turning to the woman. "We'll start with a water treatment Matron."

"Yes Dr. Franklin, I'll arrange it for this afternoon."

Without another glance at Dean they turned away and exited the room, the door closing firmly behind them.

_What the hell was that all about? This is so wrong gotta' get outta' here gotta' find Sam._

Summoning some strength from somewhere he began to lever himself off the cot, but couldn't. _Now what?_

With effortDean lifted his head and looked down the length of his body. He was clad in white pajamas. He vaguely remembered something about seeing them before. The most alarming thing was not the pajamas but the fact that his feet were bare and his wrists and ankles were restrained with thick leather straps attached to the side of the cot._ A hospital cot._

_What the hell_? He tugged as hard as he could against the straps but they were firmly in place and refused to budge.

Dean lay his throbbing head back down with a sigh of frustration staring at the white ceiling. He tried to piece together the scattered pieces of his memory and how he had come to be in this dire situation.

_Sam and I were at the asylum. Sam was downstairs I was upstairs_. _I couldn't find anything. I_ _remember heading back towards the stairs a change in the air and then… the asylum it was different. It wasn't old, run-down and decrepit anymore. It looked like… like it had in the pictures Sam had showed me from the library, the pictures taken in the sixties. __How can that be?_

Then he remembered two huge thugs holding him while that woman, the matron, _Matron Reed_ _the thugs had called her_. _The bitch had stuck him with a syringe. _

Events after that were unclear he vaguely remembered the thugsdragging him along the corridor of rooms through the door of one of them and dumping him unceremoniously onto a cot. The cot he had woken up on.

_So where am I now, this couldn't be the asylum surely_? _I must be in __some hospital maybe. But why am I here and how did I get here? What kind of hospital restrains its patients? Unless… I'm in a mental institution._

Dean again lifted his head and looked around the small dimly lit room with the window bricked in.

Then Dean knew. _I am still in the asylum, strapped to a cot in one of the __cell__rooms._

In the asylum as it had been before it had fallen into disrepair and abandoned; as it had been at the time Dr Franklin had been performing his so called treatments on the mentally ill. Dr William Franklin who had been in this room with him not five minutes ago, telling the matron to start him on his treatment today.

_Surely this is a nightmare, I can__'__t have traveled back in time, it__'__s not real it__s__ science fiction. Like __H G__Wells__'__the Time Machine.__ There has to be another explanation._

But inside Dean knew he had the explanation. It was in front of his eyes he _had_somehow traveled back to the nineteen sixties.

"I'm so screwed!" he said to the ceiling.

_**Sunday morning, Ohio University Inn**_

Sam was pacing back and forth across the room; running his hands through his shaggy hair as he paced. He was waiting for his cell to ring, waiting for Bobby's voice to tell him he knew of a way to get Dean back.

Coming down the steps of the empty asylum Sam had pulled his cell from his pocket and phoned Bobby from outside the asylum; not caring that it was only 2am. Sam was already in the Impala when Bobby had answered after seven rings; his voice rough with sleep.

"This better be good at two in the morning."

"Hey Bobby its Sam, I'm sorry to…"

Before he could apologize for the lateness or was it the earliness of his call Bobby said. "Sam what's wrong, you and Dean okay?"

"I'm fine but, Bobby, Dean's in trouble." Bobby could hear the anxiety in Sam's voice.

"What the hell has that idjit done now? He must be in bad trouble for you to call at this hour Sam."

"Yeah he is," a hesitation, then Sam continued, "something's taken him Bobby you gotta help me I don't know what to do or how to get him back." His voice held a note of barely leashed in panic.

"Sam calm down and tell me what's goin' on." Bobby hoped his tone of voice would calm Sam long enough for him to explain what had happened.

It did.

Once Sam started to explain the events of the last day; the words tumbled forth from him like water spilling from a burst dam.

Bobby wondered whether Sam had even drawn a breath as Sam finished his narration.

Sam left nothing out and as soon as the last words tumbled from his lips Bobby said.

"Okay I'll look into it and get back to you soon. Keep your phone on and Sam…"

"Yeah Bobby?"

"We will get him back." Bobby said with determination.

"Thanks Bobby."

Sam had driven back to the motel to wait for Bobby's call.

It was now 8.15 and he was still waiting. He made another pass across the room glancing at the cell on the table as he passed. _Come on ring._

As Sam paced back across the room he stopped in front of the window, pushed the curtain aside looking out onto the sunbathed motel parking lot.

The morning sun warmed Sam's face. _How dare the sun shine so brightly when my brother is gone? Is it sunny where he is?_ _God I wish he was here annoying me with his smart ass comments._

Sam thought it was ironic that three days ago all he had wanted was a break from Dean. Now all he wanted was for Dean to be in this room with him, driving him crazy with his stupid jokes and good-natured insults. Sam wanted to be sharing some friendly brotherly banter.

Then the phone rang. _Thank god. _

Sam dropped the curtain back in place and sprang at the phone. "Hey Bobby what did you find out?"

"Well, I think I know where Dean is, and I think I know how to get him back."

"Where is he?"

"This is gonna sound strange but hey strange is our middle name right? A pause then, "I think Dean's still in the asylum."

"No he's not I searched everywhere, he's _not _there Bobby."

"I think he is you just can't see him."

"What do you mean I can't see him?"

"I think he's there in a different time."

"A different time?" Sam paused then added, "you mean like time travel?"

"Yeah."

"That's science fiction Bobby." Sam's voice was skeptical with a hint of forced humor.

"I don't think so Sam."

"Come on you're tryin' to tell me Dean's in another time?"

"Don't use that tone with me boy. Do you wanna get Dean back or not?"

"Yes of course I do, but…"

"But nothing, sometimes a portal a door opens in time and you can go through that door into another time. If I'm correct it's happened before and it will happen again Sam."

"A door in time I guess that would explain what's going on at the asylum."

"I think there's one of these doors on the upper floor of the asylum. From what you told me it opens up on a Saturday night. I think Dean was there when it opened. You said all the disappearances happened on a Saturday night."

"All except the Mannering guy, no one knew when he actually disappeared, but yeah the three kids did, but how come I didn't go through when I went up there?"

"It probably only opens for few minutes, and was already closed when you went up."

"So how am I gonna' get Dean back from whatever time he's in?"

"You need to be there the next time it opens up; go through find Dean and get back out before it closes again or the both of you will be stuck there until the next time it opens."

"Bobby all those kids were dead when they were found."

"Sam it doesn't mean that Dean will be. These kids more than likely died after they came back through but before their bodies were found."

"I hope your right about this Bobby."

"Yeah me too Sam, now remember you'll have to be quick; because the door will only be open for a few minutes, five at most. Oh and Sam one more thing you won't be able to take any weapons through with you."

"Oh great. You got any more good news?"

Bobby didn't answer Sam's question; instead saying. "You know I'd come and help. I'm heading out on a hunt tomorrow and that's gonna' take at least week. I promised these people I'd take care of it."

"Sure Bobby I understand thanks for the heads up on this."

"Keep in touch and let me know if anything happens and Sam be careful and bring that pain in the ass brother of yours back safe."

"I will, thanks again Bobby."

_**Sunday afternoon at the Asylum, 1962**_

Dean had dozed off. He was awakened by the opening of the door. The orderly named Ed came into the room followed closely by the orderly called Frank.They moved close to the cot and looked down at Dean. Both had a smug smile plastered to their faces. It was inconceivable but their smiles made them look even uglier than he remembered.

"I want no trouble out of you buddy, we're going to take you for your treatment, okay?" Ed's expression told Dean he was hoping Dean would be trouble so he could get heavy handed.

_You want trouble? Well I'm always happy to oblige. _"Look pal I don't know who you think I am, but I am _not_a patient and I'm _not_ having any treatment you got it?" Dean answered.

"That's what they all say." he gave an exaggerated sigh and looked over atFranksaying, "well it looks like we have to do this the hard way; this is becoming a habit with you boy."

Frank's smile grew wider. "Okie dokie Ed I'm ready when you are."

"Let's do this."

They began to loosen the straps around his wrists and ankles.

_How the hell am I gonna get outta this one?_

As they finished untying him Dean lashed out; jabbing the point of his elbow towards Ed's face at the same time aiming a kick at Frank's midsection.

Frank grabbed his foot in mid air and with a vicious twist of his ankle he flipped him over off the cot and onto the floor. Then Ed pounced twisting his arm up behind his back and yanking him to his feet.

Dean gritted his teeth against the pain. He would not give them the satisfaction of knowing they were hurting him.

Frank did the same thing with his other arm increasing the pain tenfold. Between them they forced him out the door along the corridor and into the corridor of treatment rooms.

Stopping in front of the first door only long enough to open the door they hustled Dean inside.

Dean saw the large tubs and knew what this treatment was; he remembered this room from 2006. _Crap they're going to put me in an ice cold bath._

All the tubs had hinged wooden lids. The first two were closed and he saw why. There were men in them. The men's heads the only part of them visible through a semi-circular opening at one end of the lids.

One of the men was moaning his teeth chattering the other was still his lips were blue and his eyes were shut. Dean thought the man might be dead.

As a last resort Dean tried to reason with the men. Trying to get free of their grip he said. "Guys please don't do this you're making a mistake, I'm not supposed to be here."

Ignoring his plea they thrust him forward past the two occupied tubs, to stand in front of the next one.

Dean looked down into the tub, chunks of ice floated in the water, swirling sluggishly around the tub filled two thirds of the way up.

Dean attempted to break away, but their grip tightened. _They__'__re too strong. I__'__m not gonna get outta this one._

Before he realized what they were doing, they had stripped him unceremoniously of his pajamas and were lifting him into the tub.

Dean gasped as his body hit the water. He was unable to speak a word as the intense cold robbed him of speech and his breath seemed to be frozen in his lungs. His body stiffened as he sank up to his chin in the icy water.

Frankquickly closed the lid and Edslid the bolts across that held the lid in place. He was trapped.

_Oh god. I__'__m so cold. I'm gonna die in a freezing cold ice bath in the Time Tunnel._

Above him the orderlies had satisfied smirks on their ugly faces.

"That should shut him up for awhile." Frank said with satisfaction."Enjoy your soak in the tub." They were laughing as the moved away.

The man in the tub beside him was no longer moaning.

Dean was shivering uncontrollably as the cold penetrated to his very core his eyes drifted closed. After a few short seconds his blood felt like it had frozen in his veins and no longer flowed. His body was now completely numb. Not long after that and he was no longer shivering. Even in the semi conscious state he was now in Dean knew that not shivering was a bad thing. After four minutes his brain began to shut down.

_**Sunday afternoon, Ohio University Inn**_

Sam had been on the computer all day surfing the internet trying to find as much information as he could about time travel. What he really wanted to do was go to the library and go through the science fiction section he wanted to read everything they had about time travel; however being Sunday the library was closed and he would have to wait until tomorrow.

Sam had made up his mind that he would go back to the asylum tonight hoping that the door in time would open again tonight and he could get Dean back without having to wait a whole week.

However Sam knew deep inside that the door would not be opening tonight or any night this week until late Saturday evening.

Sam would still go tonight and every night this week just in case the door opened before then.

For the hundredth time that day Sam looked at his watch 4.40.

Sam rubbed at his tired eyes and closed the laptop.

_I'll shower and eat something, and then head back to the asylum about nine._

Sam's stomach growled loudly and he realized he hadn't eaten since he and Dean had sat here with take out nearly 24 hours ago. He remembered how he had berated Dean about his love of fried food, while he had eaten his rabbit food as Dean had called it. And at the time Sam had to admit the smell of grilled meat fried bacon and fries had smelled good.

Sam powered down the laptop, closed the lid, sighed then pushed himself up from the table and turned towards the bathroom.

Out of nowhere a feeling of intense cold invaded Sam's body nearly overwhelming him; it was so cold he felt numb and was unable to move from the spot.

Sam could sense something some kind of a connection with Dean. His brother was going through something horrific somewhere in another time.

_Oh god he__'__s so cold what the hell are they doing to him?_

Sam felt a churning sickness in his stomach. _I__'__m going to hurl._

Sam forced his uncooperative legs forward into the bathroom. Not having enough time to flip the lid up on the toilet he leaned over the basin dry heaving a couple of times because he didn't have anything in his stomach to bring up.

Turning on the faucet Sam rinsed out his mouth and looked up into the mirror above the basin. It wasn't his own reflection that stared back at him it was Dean; the freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose stood out against the paleness of his skin his eyes were closed his lips tinged blue.

Sam reached out to the reflection. As his hand contacted the cool surface of the mirror the reflection morphed and changed; his own hazel eyes stared back at him eyebrows drawn together, forehead creased into a frown.

The intense cold that had moments ago been coursing through his body, consuming him was gone as quickly as it had come.

He'd had a brief connection to his brother. A horrifying thought hit Sam. Had his connection to Dean been severed because Dean was now dead?

_**Monday**__** morning at the Asylum, 1962**_

Dean had no recollection as to how much time had gone by from when he had lost consciousness in the icy cold of tub until now. It could have been minutes, hours or days for all he knew.

Although his body was still cold and tingling, without opening his eyes he knew he was no longer submerged in the tub.

His fingers and toes were numb so he wriggled them experimentally to make sure they hadn't fallen off in the ice cold water of the tub. He was greatly relieved that although they where cold he could tell they were still attached.

Dean opened his eyes and groaned when he saw a ceiling that was becoming all too familiar; he lifted his head away from the flat pillow that was also becoming all too familiar since he'd been here.

He was clad once again in white pajamas the restraints again firmly in place.

Dean glanced about the room to see if he could get an idea of how long he had been in this nightmare.

The windowless drab gray room gave him no clue. He couldn't tell night from day.

Dean lowered his head back onto the pillow. His thoughts turned to Sam. _Is he okay? Is he looking for me? And does Sam know about this time shift thing that had somehow landed him here in the sixties?_

Dean's musing about Sam was interrupted by the sound of the bolt on the door sliding back.

Dean again lifted his head as the door swung open. A large bald man backed into the room pulling a metal tiered rolling cart behind him laden with trays of dinner plates covered with metal lids.

Wearing the regulation white orderly uniform the man was as big and ugly as Ed and Frank_**. **__Must be a prerequisite to be big and ugly to get a job as an orderly here__**.**_

Without a word baldy picked up a tray from the second tier of the cart, removed the lid throwing it back down onto the cart with a clatter of metal on metal.

Picking up a large pitcher from the cart baldy slopped some murky liquid into a small plastic cup, slammed the cup down onto the tray so hard the liquid inside jumped out dripping down the sides of the cup onto the tray.

Without a word being spoken baldy shoved a plastic spoon into the sloppy mess on the plate and practically dropped the tray onto Dean's torso, turned away and began to push the tray from the room.

"Hey If you expect me to eat this you'll have take off the straps, oh silent one." Dean said sarcastically.

No reaction from baldy_**. **_He continued out the door pushing the cart in front of him. The door slammed behind him and Dean heard the bolt slide back into place.

"Hey pal, you deaf? Untie me." Dean shouted at the closed door.

And silence was the firm reply.

"You've got to be kiddin' me." Dean said in frustration.

The food on the tray didn't look very appetizing and hard to identify as actual food; but Dean was hungry; he hadn't eaten since… he had no idea how long it had been.

Dean leaned his head up as far as the restraints would allow trying to reach the edge of the tray with his mouth, so he could pull it up far enough to hopefully get something in his mouth.

But even straining as far up as could the tray was still out of reach. _This is not gonna work. Okay plan B._

Pulling his hand up in the restraints as far as it would go he turned his hand in towards the edge of the tray, the leather straps chaffing the skin on his wrist. He touched the edge of the side of the tray with the finger tip of his middle finger and tried to pivot the other side closer to his mouth. His finger slipped off the edge of the tray tipping it into the air. The tray hit the floor with a clatter, the plate and the cup landed beside it the contents landed on him and dripped off the side of the cot onto the floor.

With a groan of frustration Dean laid his head back down on the excuse for a pillow saying. "That worked out well… not," then added, "If the treatments don't kill me first I'm gonna' starve to death."

_**To Be Continued…**_

Thanks for reading, please review.

Cheers

_Silvertayl_


	3. Chapter 3

**A DOOR IN TIME (REVISED)**

_A Supernatural story by: Silvertayl _

**Disclaimer and Story Summary:**

See Chapter 1

**Authors Notes:**

This is being posted without a beta. So forgive grammatical and spelling mistakes.

Thanks for all the reviews and the renewed interest in the revised version of this story.

**Chapter 3**

_**Tuesday morning at the Asylum, 1962**_

Dr. Franklin was going through the meticulous notes Matron Reed had been recording on the patient in room 6. Every detail relating to the patient and the treatment he had received was before him in the matron's firm but legible handwriting.

"So the water treatment administered on let's see..." Dr. Franklin flipped back to the last page, "Sunday afternoon hasn't improved his condition at all, Matron?" Dr. Franklin looked from the notes to the Matron.

"I'm afraid not doctor, as you can see by my notes he is still exhibiting psychotic behavior. Still claiming there's nothing wrong with him. He is hostile to my staff and yesterday morning he refused to eat and threw his morning meal onto the floor." Replied the Matron.

"Umm surprising and disappointing. I will reassess his mental status. I may have to try electro shock therapy to improve his condition, come with me Matron."

Dr. Franklin and the Matron moved away from the nurse's station into the corridor stopping outside room 6.

The Matron spoke to the large man perched on a tiny chair at the other end of the corridor. "Stan, open No.6 for Dr. Franklin.

Stan got hastily to his feet and moved to room 6, using the large set of keys attached to his belt he unlocked and unbolted the door pulling it open, then stood back to allow the doctor and the matron to enter.

Dr. Franklin moved to the cot looking down at the drawn pale face of the young man restrained there. His green eyes were bloodshot and filled with barely contained hostility.

"Young man why did refuse to eat and throw your food on the floor? This kind of behavior and your behavior towards the staff is unacceptable." Dr. Franklin chastised looking closely to see what the reaction would be from the young man.

"Come on you've got to be kiddin me, Mister Congeniality out there just about dumped it on me and expected me to eat with these on." Lifting his hands as far as the restraints would allow.

The doctor looked at the matron. "Is this true Matron, was the patient left restrained at meal time?"

"No doctor. Stan removed the restraints to allow him to eat. He threw the meal on the floor, so Stan had to restrain him again."

Looking into the anger filled eyes of the patient Dr. Franklin tried to reason with the young man. "If we are going to help you, you must eat."

"Hey doc your kind of help I don't need."

"That is why you are here. Don't you want to get better?"

"I don't want anything form you except to untie me, I need to take a leak."

At the young man's request the doctor flushed a bit; a little embarrassed at the patients blunt request. "Of course Stan take the restraints off so he can use the chamber pot."

Stan came in from where he had been lurking outside the door. He came over to the cot and removed the restraints.

Dean sat up slowly, trying to ignore the dizziness that the change in altitude brought with it. He rubbed at his chaffed wrists.

Stan bent down beside the cot taking something from out underneath it. When he straightened he was holding a ceramic chamber pot which he thrust towards Dean.

"Make it snappy." Stan growled.

"It speaks." Dean said sarcastically as he swung his legs over the side of the cot taking the chamber pot from Stan's hands.

"A bit of privacy here." He said as he stood, looking from the matron to the doctor then at Stan.

"Stan will stay." The doctor said curtly as he turned and left the room followed by the matron.

Stan crossed his arms across his massive chest and waited his expression unreadable.

"Hey Stan you like to watch huh?" Dean's words dripped with sarcasm.

Stan remained silent; his expression unchanged.

Dean knew this would probably be his best and only chance of getting out of here. He was no longer restrained and the door to the room was open. Stan a man mountain the only thing standing between him and freedom.

He needed to get out of here and from there find a way to get back to 2006 and Sam.

_I've got to try something._

There was only one small problem. If he was successful in his bid for freedom, what the hell was he gonna do then where would he go? He was in the sixties a time before he was even born. His parents were still only children.

_Come on Dean once you're on your feet you'll think of something._

Dean turned his back on Stan loosed his pajama bottom made use of the chamber pot before pulling the string on pajamas tight again.

That's when he made his move.

As he turned back towards Stan he used the momentum of the turn and the weight of the pot swinging it hard against the side of Stan's head.

The chamber pot shattered against Stan's bald head; showering the big man with pieces of broken pot and warm urine. He went down without a sound.

Dean vaulted over his prone body, went to the door looking cautiously out into the corridor.

To his right at the nurses' station Dr. Franklin and the matron were conversing, thankfully their backs to him. To his left the corridor was empty.

Dean turned that way breaking into a run as he headed towards where he knew the stairs were; his bare feet concealing his flight.

He had almost reached the end of the corridor when Frank turned into the corridor right in front of him from the direction of the stairs.

Dean's bare feet skidded to a stop on the polished floor.

"Son of a bitch." He exclaimed.

When he saw him Frank stopped just as suddenly; then hesmiled a smile so evil any demon would have been proud saying.

"What do we have here, you planning' on goin' somewhere boy?"

Dean returned the smile with a smirk of his own, at the same he lifted his leg in a kick aimed at Frank'sgroin.

Before Dean's kick connected the big man grabbed Dean's uplifted leg by the ankle and twisted it to one side all in the one motion, much the same as he had done once before.

This sent Dean's whole body in the direction of the twist. Dean hit the floor on his chest and stomach, his face smashing painfully into the hard floor.

He was momentarily stunned by the hard contact with the floor.

Frankpushed his knee into the small of Dean's back at the same time grabbing his wrists and twisting them painfully back and up towards his shoulder blades.

Dean held back a cry at the pain in his back and arms.

His bid for freedom had failed.

He heard the sound of rubber soled shoes squeaking against the floor as more staff came running.

With his face mashed against the hard floor he was unable to see the doctor but he could hear his angry voice.

"Matron, sedate this patient at once."

"Yes doctor right away."

A moment later Dean felt the familiar prick of a needle this time in the side of his neck. "No not this again." He said through clenched teeth.

The drug took effect almost immediately and Dean could feel his senses and his reactions dulling.

The pressure on his arms lessened and the knee was removed from the small of his back.

Knowing he could no longer fight, he felt them grasp his wrists and ankles and then he was lifted so that his back barely cleared the floor; his head fell back and banged painfully against the floor with every step they made.

He was carried back to the room like a sack of rice, from upside down he saw Stan filling the doorway leaning on the door jam and holding his head.

As his cohorts approached with their burden Stan straightened and moved away from the door giving them room to pass.

They dumped Dean none to gently onto the cot tightening the restraints much tighter than before.

As his senses left him and he slipped into darkness; Dean thought he heard the echo of their laughter.

_**Wednesday Morning Ohio University Inn, 2006**_

Sam had spent his fourth uneventful night at the asylum; leaving there at dawn making sure he was long gone before the morning security patrol.

He was exhausted mentally and physically pushing his body to respond with no recuperative sleep since Dean had been gone.

Driving back to the motel he passed a McDonalds the glowing golden arches standing out against the subdued early morning light; his stomach growled as if it had sensed nourishment close by, so he pulled into the drive through ordering some pancakes, sausage ,hash brown and the largest coffee they had. The window attendant was way to cheery fairly bubbling with enthusiasm at 6.15 in the morning.

Sam ground his teeth together to avoid shouting at the girl. _"How dare you, don't you know my brother is gone?" _

He sipped on the scalding beverage as he drove the rest of the short way to the motel. The coffee that had tasted good going down turned sour as it hit his empty stomach. The smell of the sausage filled the car; Sam didn't know whether he wanted to tear open the bag and consume it right then and there in three or four mouthfuls or wind down the window and toss it out onto the street.

He carried the rapidly cooling paper bag and the half full coffee into the room placing it on the table next to the keys to the Impala.

Sam lowered himself onto the side of the bed, he glanced at the bathroom door and then back at the bag on the table.

He needed to shower and eat but not necessarily in that order but little energy he'd had, his appetite and it seemed his will had deserted him.

So he did neither instead he lay back on the bed a sigh escaping his lips.

His mind took control thoughts and feelings rapidly chasing each other across his gray matter. He didn't know whether to be relieved or alarmed that he hadn't had any more of those psychic connections to Dean since the first one on Sunday. _Is he still alive?_

Sam turned his head looking across at the empty bed opposite him, Dean's bed. He could imagine Dean lying stretched out along the bed on his stomach, his hand under the pillow clutching his Bowie knife.

His weary body was sending him signals that were telling him it needed to rest. He had just gone a fourth night without sleep and exhaustion was a constant companion.

One thing he knew for sure he would be back at the asylum tonight.

_Maybe I should rest a few hours sleep perhaps is a good idea._ He needed to sharpen his senses and clear his head and at this stage sleep was the only thing solution.

_Maybe tonight the door will open maybe tonight I'll get Dean back. _

These were his last conscious thoughts as his eyelids grew heavy then fell closed.

Within minutes Sam was deeply asleep.

_**Wednesday Afternoon at the Asylum, 1962**_

When Dean next opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the fugly face of Ed.

He swallowed a couple of times trying to work some saliva into his parched throat.

"Now that's a scary sight to wake up to." He croaked out.

"Still got that smart mouth I see." Ed answered.

"Hey I try hard." Dean said with a false grin.

Frank stepped into view beside Ed. He had the same evil smile plastered on his face as he had when he'd found him in the corridor.

"We'll see if you've got any of that smart mouth left after the treatment Dr. Franklin has in store you."

"Another cold bath? Oh lucky me I sure enjoyed the first one." Dean said trying to hide his growing fear about what they had planned.

"This is gonna be much more enjoyable than the tubs," Ed said, pausing for emphasis,"enjoyable for us cuz Frank and me we get to watch, enjoyable for you not so much." He added with a smirk.

Dean tried to return the smirk with one of his own that perhaps wasn't very convincing.

"It's time to go smart mouth Dr. Franklin is waiting." Frank rubbed his ham like hands together_**.**_

With the remains of the injection still in his system weak from lack of food and water; Dean was unable to put up much resistance as the two big men undid the restraints and lifted him off the cot onto a gurney that they had brought in with them.

The gurney also had restraints which they also fastened.

Dean tried to swallow the lump of fear lodged in his throat. His heart picked up speed in fear of what was too come.

They then pushed the gurney through the door along the corridor, swung it to the right into the adjoining corridor stopping alongside the first door on the right.

Dean turned his head that way and saw the sign on the door. Above the door a sign read **SHOCK THERAPY** in large black letters.

He broke out in a cold sweat and chills of terror ran up his spine.

He knew what this was.

It had only been a couple of months since the incident with the raw head. It had almost killed him and they were going to do it to him again, disguised as treatment for a mental illness he didn't even have.

"Oh God please don't do this." Dean said in desperation.

"Did I hear him say please?" Ed said with a glance at Frank.

Leaning in close to Dean's face Ed said. "You've been asking for this, pal." With that he pushed open the door and Frank maneuvered the gurney through it.

They strong armed Dean from the gurney to the large table in the middle of the room.

Knowing there was no hope of escape, he still tried. He had managed to sit up and swing one leg off the side of the table, before he was thrown back down hard against it. Frank holding him down as Edtied the restraints around his ankles and wrists, then one around his chest and another across his forehead.

Dean was now completely immobile; unable to move at all.

His body was trembling and his breath was coming in short gasps.

Dr Franklin appeared in front of him. He smiled and patted Dean on the shoulder much the same as he had that first time.

"Don't worry son, it will be all be over soon and you'll feel much better." He said.

Dean forced out in between gasping breaths. "Please doc don't do this I don't need it, I already feel fine. You're making a mistake."

"It's for the best you'll see." He patted Dean's shoulder again.

"I… don't... freakin… believe… this…" Dean was really gasping now. The lack of oxygen had his head spinning.

The matron appeared above his head holding in each hand an electrode dripping with water, a long lead snaking from each. Without a word she applied the electrodes to each temple, the water slipped down the side of his face settling in his ears.

She took the other end of the wires and moved to one side. Dean rolled his eyes that way and saw her attach the wires to some kind of machine on a small table near the wall, and then she took another wire that was protruding from somewhere at the back of the machine and clipped it onto the bottom of the lever on the wall above it.

Dean's eyes went back to the doctor standing in front of him. He pried Dean's mouth open and shoved some kind of rubber mouth piece into his mouth.

He knew what that was for; it was so he wouldn't bite off his tongue.

A tear rolled from the corner of his eye, down his face to blend with the water pooling in his ear.

Dean rolled his eyes from the doctor back to the matron who was standing with her hand on the lever.

"Ready Matron?" The doctor asked.

Dean rolled his eyes back to the doctor.

His green eyes pleading with him not to give the signal.

"Yes doctor."

He nodded his head to the matron.

"Begin."

She threw the lever.

Dean's body was lifted off the table as far as the restraints would allow the electricity coursing through his body which twitched and jerked as it tried to escape the unbelievable torment; the excruciating pain.

_Stop, stop it, I can__'__t stand it your killin' me._

Dean had no idea how long the torment went on for. He lost consciousness after the first agonizing minute.

When it was time the doctor gave the matron the signal to stop the flow of the electricity.

She pushed the lever back up.

The patient was convulsing uncontrollably.

The convulsions lasted for several minutes after the current was shut off; gradually decreasing until they stopped completely. Dr. Franklin then removed the electrodes and the mouth guard.

The young man was unconscious his half closed eyes glazed and unseeing.

Dr. Franklin looked at the orderlies waiting inside the closed door, saying. "You can take him back now."

After the restraints were removed and they were transferring him to the gurney, the doctor added.

"There's no need for restraints, he'll give you no more trouble."

"Yes doctor." They said in unison.

_**Wednesday afternoon Ohio University Inn, 2006**_

With a cry of his brother's name on his lips Sam started up from the bed the nightmare still swirling around him. He was trembling and sweating with the feeling of electricity still tingling through his body.

But this wasn't a nightmare; it had really happened.

Bile rose in Sam's throat, sliding hurriedly off the bed he stumbled into the bathroom barely managing to lift the lid on the toilet before emptying the meager contents of his stomach; the few sips of coffee he'd had earlier.

When the coffee was long gone and the dry retching had stopped using the side of the toilet bowl for support he pulled his trembling body up, closed the lid pressed the button. Then he opened the faucet and rinsed the sour taste of bile and sickness from his mouth with the cool neutralizing water.

Raising his head Sam looked into the mirror.

_Will I see Dean's reflection again?_

His reality nightmare was another connection to Dean, and Dean was suffering and in pain. They had done that to him while Sam slept. They had given Dean Electro shock therapy.

His own haggard refection stared back at him. The connection was again broken.

His hazel eyes were bloodshot from the retching his face pale, his brows drawn down into a frown.

Sam knew what they had done to his brother because he had felt it all; every agonizing second.

_Oh God Dean, I__'__m so sorry I couldn't stop this. Please stay strong bro, I__'__m coming for you._

Sam looked again in the mirror his eyes now reflecting his new found determination and resolve. He would get his brother back.

"I will do it I will get him back." He said to his reflection.

_**To be continued…**_

Thanks for reading, please review.

_Silvertayl_


	4. Chapter 4

**A DOOR IN TIME (REVISED)**

_A Supernatural story by: Silvertayl _

**Disclaimer and Story Summary:**

See Chapter 1

**Authors Notes:**

This is being posted without a beta. So forgive grammatical and spelling mistakes.

**Chapter 4**

_**Saturday Morning at the asylum, 1962**_

Dean had no idea how long had passed before little by little his senses came back to him.

He opened his eyes which brought with it dizziness, blurred vision and the foulest taste in his mouth. It felt like the aftermath of a concussion or the worst hangover ever.

_I don__'__t remember getting hit on the head or drinking that much, come to think about it I don__'__t remember drinking at all?_

He blinked his eyes and opened them wide in an effort to clear his vision. A gray ceiling swam into view. _Not__ the motel ceiling?_

Then like an ocean wave crashing over a rocky shore, memories bombarded him. _The asylum, shock therapy, the pain, oblivion._

Dean lifted shaking hands rubbing at his throbbing temples.

_Wait a minute;_ _I__'__m not tied down, wonder why_? Lifting his hands away from his head he stared stupidly at them turning them over and over, and then he lifted his throbbing head he looked down at his bare feet.

Dean's eyes went to the door he couldn't't believe what he was seeing. The door was open.

He closed his blurry eyes opening them again expecting to see the door closed. _No it__'__s still open_.

_Maybe my luck has finally changed; or could it be something else, a trick maybe._

He stood up and waited for the room to stop revolving before making his way slowly to the door. He looked into the corridor. It was empty.

Using the wall for support he made his way to the end past the closed doors of the other unfortunate patients and peered around the corner at the door leading to the stairway. He covered the few steps to the door, pulled it open cautiously looking down into the stairwell, there was no sign of any movement on the stairs.

With a quick glance over his shoulder he moved into the stairwell closing the heavy door behind him he started down his bare feet slapping against the concrete steps, keeping a death grip on the metal railing to keep his trembling weakened body from tumbling head first to the bottom, his eye sight wavered in and out of focus.

Finally reaching the bottom after what felt like an eon he stumbled to a stop breathless and feeling faint. He sat down on the bottom step hanging his head down taking deep breaths and waiting for the feeling to pass.

After a minute he felt steadier so he got back to his feet and took the three steps to the door leading to the ground floor of the asylum and hopefully freedom.

He pulled the handle towards him the door opened six inches then something heavy hit him from behind slamming the door closed and pushing his chest hard against the door, forcing the stuttering breath from his lungs.

The weight against him eased for a moment as his left arm was pulled back and twisted painfully up under his shoulder.

Dean gritted his teeth his weakened body was failing him, he had no strength to push back against the weight that could only be one of the thugs pinning him to the door.

Black spots danced in his vision and his legs were collapsing beneath him. The only thing keeping him upright was the man behind him.

Frank's hated__voice hissed into his right ear. "You don't learn do you boy, I'm gonna administer my own kind of sedative."

Out of the corner of his right eye through the ever increasing darkness and tunneling vision he saw a giant clenched fist descending towards his face.

_**Early Saturday Evening, Athens, 1962**_

Dr Franklin slammed the heavy black phone back into the cradle.

He had believed the shock therapy would be the answer to the young man's mental health. But after the phone call he had received from Matron Reed to tell him she was terribly sorry to disturb him at home, but she had come on duty to find that the patient in room 6 had tried to escape for a second time.

That's when he made his decision to take a more drastic measure to help the young man and perform a procedure that now seemed to be the only solution to the young man's psychotic tendencies.

He would have to perform a lobotomy on him. _I don't want to put it off. I'll go to the asylum straight from the surgeon__'__s ball._

Matron Reed was on duty all night, she could assist him.

With his decision made he went upstairs to dress for the ball.

_**Early Saturday Evening at the Ohio University Inn, 2007**_

Tonight was the night Sam was bringing his brother back through that door in time. He was ready, ready to fight for his brother's life if he needed to. Dean would do the same for him and had been all his life.

Bobby had phoned earlier; still apologizing for not being there with Sam to help get Dean back.

"Sorry Sam, I'd rather be there with you but this hunt is a bitch and it's taking much longer than I had hoped."

"I know you would Bobby, but I got it covered." Sam assured the older hunter.

"Jeez Sam you sound just like your pain in the ass brother."

"Well I guess he's kinda' rubbed off on me."

"Yeah he sorta' grows on you, like a wart."

"I know what you mean," Sam paused then continued his voice wavering, "I miss him Bobby."

"I know you do kid. Listen Sam you be careful and remember you gotta be quick, get in, get Dean and get out again, and no weapons they won't go through. You got it?"

"Yeah Bobby I got it."

"And call me when you got him, I don't care what time it is."

"Will do Bobby, thanks."

_**Saturday Evening at the Asylum, 2007**_

Sam was on the upper floor of the asylum; he sat on the dirty floor his back against the wall facing into the corridor of rooms_**,**_ the nurses' station was to his right the adjoining corridor to his left. He was no more than a couple of yards from__where he had found Dean's guns his ring and amulet.

He had scanned the upper floor for EMF the meter hadn't registered any spirit activity. Which as far as Sam was concerned was good news at least he wouldn't have to contend with one or perhaps more than one angry spirit.

_How will I know when the door is open? I have to know Dean's life may depend on it._

"There has to be something, some kind of sign." Sam whispered to himself; his voice echoing eerily back to him in the dark empty corridor.

Leaning his head back against the wall Sam pinned his tired eyes on the corridor. Waiting for the sign that must come.

Using his flashlight Sam looked at his watch for the hundredth time in ten minutes; _five minutes to midnight, if Bobby's right it's got to happen soon._

_What if nothing happens and it doesn't open,_ _what the hell am I gonna do then? _A knot of anxiety was forming in his stomach.

_Don__'__t be ridiculous Sam, of course it__'__s gonna open, the time is right. It has to be._

It was then he felt it; a drop in the temperature.

Sam stood up and looked into the gloom of the corridor. Apart from the temperature change something else was different.

The air in front of him looked like it was moving, shimmering and shifting like a liquid metal curtain.

_This must be it, the door. It__'__s open._

"I'm coming bro." he said as he stepped forward into the shimmering air and into the nineteen sixties.

_**Saturday Evening at the Asylum, 1962**_

The young man's body was lifted off the gurney; muscles taut and straining against the restraints. It was enough.

Dr. Franklin gave Matron Reed the signal. The matron pushed the lever back up, cutting off the electrical current that surged from the electrodes through the young man's body.

The patient's body fell back against the gurney, convulsions raked his frame, his eyes barely open and unseeing the darkening bruise marring the skin around his right eye courtesy of the orderly Frank looked dark against the paleness of his skin.

The Matron checked the instrument tray making sure Dr. Franklin had everything he needed to perform the Trans-Orbital Lobotomy on this recalcitrant patient.

Matron Reed was surprised when the Doctor had said he would perform the procedure tonight rather than in the morning.

Dr. Franklin had been insistent coming straight from the surgeon's ball, still in his tuxedo.

This patient had been nothing but trouble. With two attempts at escaping the asylum, upsetting her staff, especially the orderly Stan, who the patient had knocked senseless with the aid of a chamber pot.

After the procedure the patient would cause them no more problems. If he survived the procedure that was.

She had seen Dr. Franklin perform this procedure numerous times before, unfortunately a considerable number of the patients died shortly afterwards.

Dr. Franklin was ready to proceed now that the young man had stopped convulsing.

He removed the electrodes and the mouth guard handing them to The Matron lifting the patient's eyelid to make sure he was unconscious.

"He's out. It's time to begin."

The doctor rolled back the patient's left eyelid taking the metal eye clamp from Matron inserting the clamp into the eye keeping it open.

That done Matron passed him the Leucotome, an instrument that resembled a small ice pick.

Slowly the doctor pushed the instrument into the tear duct, when he was satisfied it was in the correct position he took the mallet he gently tapped it in around the edge of the eyeball into the brain.

The final part of the procedure was to move the instrument back and forth in a sawing motion to sever the neural receptors. The process basically disconnecting one side of the brain from the other.

The doctor had his hand around the end of the Leucotome ready to begin the final process when a loud deep voice interrupted him.

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!"

The corridor was brightly lit, clean and sterile looking a far cry from the corridor of 2007 he had moments ago left behind.

Sam knew he had no time to waste; he went straight to the only open door in the corridor.

The room was empty except for a cot with leather restraints attached.

_Dean was in here I can feel it, where is he now?_

A feeling that Dean was in immediate danger carried Sam's long legs from the empty room and into the corridor with the treatment rooms. There were four doors one was open the second on the left.

_Dean__'__s in there._

He ran towards it skidding to a stop in the doorway.

Sam was frozen in place staring with horrified eyes at the scene in front of him.

Dean clad only in hospital pajamas his feet bare was lying unmoving strapped down on an operating table.

From his position in the doorway, Sam could see some kind of shiny metal object attached to Dean's right eye and it looked like there was some kind of long thin instrument also metal protruding from his eyeball.

A middle aged man wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his elbows and a bow tie was leaning over his brother with one hand around the metal thing poking from Dean's eye.

_Oh god am I too late? Have they done it?_

In his best John Winchester voice Sam shouted. "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!"

The man looked up at the interruption with a surprised expression on his face.

"Who are you?" He asked.

A short rather matronly woman wearing a pristine white nurse's uniform and sensible shoes stepped towards Sam.

"How did you get in here?" She asked.

Sam was so intent on the man hovering over the still body of his brother; he ignored her.

Stepping slowly into the room Sam gave her a cold hard stare that said "_don__'__t mess with me,__"_ and she shrank back against a table laden with surgical instruments.

Sam looked back to the man staring at him his hand still around the instrument in Dean's eye, his voice low and menacing. "I said… get… away… from… my… brother."

"You will have to wait until I've finished the procedure."

"No. Get your hands off him. You're not gonna touch him again, do you hear me? Move away from him… Now."

The man hastily pulled his hand away from the instrument stepping back beside the woman.

Sam moved hastily to his brother's side.

"Oh god Dean." Sam said when he saw what they had done to him.

Dean had obviously been shocked into unconsciousness again. There were two distinct marks, burn marks, where the electrodes had been on his temples.

Dean's left eye was clamped wide open with a metal clamp a long thin skewer thing protruded from the inner corner of his eye.

His face was pale, drawn and was thinner than when Sam had last seen him. He had dark circles under his eyes a bruise around the right one; across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose the freckles that Dean hated so much but it seemed anything female loved, was in stark contrast to the paleness of his skin.

Sam pressed two fingers to Dean's throat and was relieved to feel the thrum of his heartbeat under his finger tips.

With a quick glance at the pair cowering to his right; as gently as he could Sam pulled the spike from Dean's eye. The spot on Dean's eye where the thing had been inserted welled up with blood.

Sam then removed the metal clamp that was keeping Dean's eye open.

After undoing the straps he gently tapped Dean's cheek. "Dean it's me Sam, come on wake up we need get out of here."

Alarmingly Dean didn't stir.

"Come on bro I'm getting you out of here now."

Taking Dean's arms he pulled him into a sitting position. Dean's head flopped down onto his chest.

Sam hoisted Dean up and over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

Giving the pair standing against the table one final look of hatred he headed out into the corridor; praying that the door was still open.

Sam had no idea how long he had been in the time warp, it felt like hours but, in fact was only probably a few minutes.

As he carried Dean into the adjoining corridor where the door was everything around changed again the corridor went dark.

They were back in the ruined dirty abandoned corridor of 2007. The asylum was as it should be.

"We made it Dean; we're back, thank god." Sam said to the unresponsive man draped over his shoulder.

Adjusting Dean's weight a little Sam continued on to the stairs.

Slowly and carefully with his precious burden he descended to the ground floor making his way as quickly as possible to the entrance, down the outside steps and into the cool night air.

Sam trotted at a steady pace towards the waiting Impala.

A line from that old Holly's song came to mind. "_Cuz I'm strong, strong enough to carry him. __He aint heavy he__'__s my brother."_

Wherever Dean's body touched Sam's he felt the ice cold chill of Dean's skin. _He__'__s so cold._

Finally reaching the car, Sam threw open the passenger side door and gently laid Dean against the seat, his head resting back against the top.

He found a blanket on the back seat that Dean had stolen from a motel in Idaho a couple of months back.

As Sam tucked the blanket around Dean's frozen body he remembered chastising Dean for the theft.

Dean had replied. "Ahh Sammy you're way too honest, you think they're gonna miss one ratty old blanket? Besides everyone pinches something from a motel, shampoo, soap, pens, pillows, blankets."

Sam rushed to the driver's side slid in behind the wheel in turned the key she sprang to life the familiar grumble of the powerful engine filled the interior.

"Hang in there bro."

With a spray of loose gravel spewing from underneath her tires, Sam guided the Impala out of the asylum grounds, onto the road and towards the hospital.

_**Sunday Morning, Athens Memorial Hospital**_

Fifteen minutes later Sam pulled the Impala into the ambulance bay of the hospital, giving a quick glance at the sign saying: - **AMBULANCES ONLY - STRICTLY NO PARKING**

Sam looked across the interior of the car at Dean; he showed no signs of waking. During the trip to the hospital when Sam had taken a corner too fast his body had slid sideways the side of his head was now resting against the window.

Throwing open the door he got out hurriedly rounding the Impala to the passenger side. Opening the door he gently lifted Dean's head to rest back against the seat.

"I'm going to get someone to help," he said, adding, "I'll be back in a flash."

Sam ran through the doors spotting a young woman her back to him in green scrubs; he rushed up to her grabbing her upper arm he spun her to face him.

"My brother needs help, please he's unconscious."

The tiny red head looked a little startled, but hearing his words; she looked up his 6'4 inch frame to his anxious face.

"Where is he?"

"Outside, in the car." He grasped her arm pulling her towards the ambulance bay.

She let him lead her rather speedily through the doors, to the open door of the Impala.

She leaned in over Dean, tossing aside the blanket and giving him a brief examination.

"Sir can you hear me? This was directed at Dean. "How long has he been like this?" She addressed Sam whilst still examining Dean.

Sam was leaning in looking over her shoulder.

"I don't know he was like that when I found him." Sam answered. And it wasn't a lie.

Sam moved back a step giving her room as she straightened, turning to him.

"We have to get him inside so a doctor can examine him. Stay with him, I'll be back in a minute."

Leaving Sam alone with Dean she hurried back through the ER doors, only to appear again within a minute an orderly in tow pushing a gurney.

The nurse and the orderly transferred Dean onto the gurney and pushed it back into the ER; Sam close behind.

Sam had tried to follow the gurney into the exam room; the tiny nurse took Sam by the arm in a surprisingly firm grip.

"You need to wait in the waiting area whilst they examine your brother," she said as she led him to the waiting area. "I'm going to have to ask you to please move your car out of the ambulance bay. And when you come back I have some paper work for you to fill out."

"My brother's car." He stated to pretty redhead.

She looked puzzled. "Excuse me?"

"It's my brother's car."

She seemed unimpressed with his statement. "Well you'll still have to move it."

"Okay no problem."

Sam did as she asked; moving the car into the car parking lot.

When he returned she handed him a clipboard.

"Fill out both pages I'll come back and collect it a bit.

Sam tried to push his worry for Dean aside and concentrate on the forms in front of him. He had to make sure he got all the details of their current aliases correct.

When he'd finished the redhead came and took the completed forms from him and then he waited.

Fifteen minutes later found Sam still waiting; sitting on the edge of a hard chair in the waiting area. His right leg bobbing up and down at a furious pace; throwing anxious glances at the doors of exam room 3. Whenever someone came out or went in Sam sat up straighter but no one took any notice of him and no one said anything to him.

_What the hell is happening in there why are they taking so long, I want someone to tell me what__'__s going on?_

It was then Sam remembered Bobby. _"And call me when you got him, I don'__t care what time it is."_ Bobby had said on the phone.

Sam pulled out his cell. Bobby picked up on the first ring. "Sam, did you get him?" Bobby's anxious voice was loud in his ear.

"You were right, I got him but... they did things to him Bobby."

"What do you mean, what sort of things?"

"They gave him shock treatment, screwed with his brain Bobby I think they…"

"What Sam, what did they do to him?"

"I think they gave him a lobotomy."

"_They did what?" _Bobby paused_, _"are you sure?"

Sam looked around making sure there was no one within earshot; lowering his voice he told Bobby how he'd found Dean.

"When I found him they had him strapped to a table he was unconscious I think from shock treatment, they had this spike thing inserted in the corner of his eye the doctor guy was going to... Bobby it was horrible."

Bobby was silent on the other end of the line.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah I'm here," Bobby's voice sounded strained, "where are you now?"

"At Athens Memorial."

"What do the doctor's say?"

"Nothing yet, they're still examining him."

"Call me back after you talk to the doctor, as soon as you know anything. And Sam?"

"Yeah Bobby?"

"Stay strong."

"I'm trying Bobby I'm trying."

It was another ten minutes later when the doors of exam room 3 opened.

A middle aged man with a thick mane of silver hair sticking up at odd angles and wearing a white lab coat emerged.

Sam was on his feet moving swiftly towards the man before the doors swung closed behind him.

The redhead spoke briefly to the man before gesturing towards Sam. The doctor looked up as Sam got close.

"I'm Dr. Davidson you're Sam Dean's brother?" The doctor asked holding out his hand to Sam.

Sam took the proffered hand. "Dr. Davidson, how's my brother?"

"He hasn't regained consciousness; he is severely dehydrated and has head trauma. Has he received a blow to his head in the last twenty four hours?"

"I wish I knew. Dean has been missing for the last week. I found him a couple of hours ago like that."_ All true, no lies._

"We found marks on his temples that indicate he's been given electro shock therapy and, it appears someone has tried to perform a lobotomy on him."

"Tried, so he's okay then?"

"It's too soon to tell we have to wait for him to regain consciousness to see if there's any permanent damage to his brain. There's also a risk of complications he may develop a Subdural Hematoma, in layman's terms a blood clot on the brain. Well be taking him down to radiology for a CT scan shortly that should tell us more and as I said when he regains consciousness."

"Can I see him?"

"Alright but only for a minute."

Dean's asylum pajamas had been replaced with a white hospital gown and a light cotton blanket was drawn up to his waist. He had an IV in the back of his hand the bag of clear liquid attached to the line replacing the must needed fluids. Dean had a nasal cannula in his nose.

Sam's eyes blurred as tears welled in his eyes. His big brother indestructible Dean; he looked so young and defenseless and smaller. Lying there so still and pale, his left eye covered with a bandage. The eyelashes of his uncovered eye made a long sooty semicircle against the dark circle and bruising under his eye which looked almost black in the harsh light of the exam room.

Moving to the left side of the bed, Sam gently rubbed his hand back and forth along Dean's forearm, pleased to feel that his brother was warmer now.

"Hey man it's me, Sam. You gonna lie there all day? You lazy good for nothing, come on Dean open your eyes, please I gotta know you're alright, that I got you out in time. Dean come on bro wake up."

The room was quiet the silence was broken only by the hiss of oxygen.

Sam squeezed Dean's cold hand and tried again. "Dean, I want you to wake up and say you're hungry for a cheese burger and fries. There's a pretty little nurse here, dude she's just your type, a redhead."

Before Sam could say more an orderly came to take Dean to have his CT scan.

Sam went back to the waiting room. He sat down on the uncomfortable chair. With his elbows on his knees he dropped his aching head into his hands and prayed.

_**To be continued…**_

Thanks for reading please review.

Cheers

_Silvertayl_


	5. Chapter 5

**A DOOR IN TIME (REVISED)**

_A Supernatural story by: Silvertayl _

**Disclaimer and Story Summary:**

See Chapter 1

**Authors Notes:**

This is being posted without a beta. So forgive grammatical and spelling mistakes.

**Chapter 5**

_**Sunday Afternoon, Athens Memorial Hospital, 2007**_

Dean could hear voices. At first he didn't recognize the voices and he couldn't hear what was being said. _God… please don__'__t let that be Dr. Frankenstein and that Matron bitch of a sidekick._

The voices were getting clearer, so clear in fact he could hear what they were saying.

"The CT showed no sign of a haematoma. However he could still develop one in the next few days, so we have started him on Dilantin as a precautionary measure. We're keeping him on the fluids as he's still very dehydrated. When he regains consciousness we'll evaluate his cognitive function, reflexes and movement using some simple tests.

It was a pleasant voice, but Dean didn't recognize it. _Well at least it's not Dr. Frankenstein._

"Should he have woken up by now doctor?"

_Hey, know that voice, Sammy._ Dean needed to see his little brother he tried to open his eyes but someone had weighted them down. _No can__'__t do it, too heavy, too hard._

"I think you're worrying unnecessarily. Sometimes the brain shuts itself down to help itself recover, he'll wake when he's ready. I'm going to admit him for a few days for observation. Someone will be along later to transfer him upstairs to a room.

"Thanks Dr. Davidson."

_Don't know Dr. Davidson but that__'__s definitely Sam, thank god he__'__s okay... at any rate he sounds okay. I'm so tired._

"Keep talking to him, sometimes it helps and it certainly won't hurt."

_Dowwannatalk, wanna sleep._

Now that he was satisfied Sam was alright Dean let himself drop back into that quiet, safe place.

But not for long now someone was squeezing his hand, squeezing so hard it hurt like a bitch.

"Dean, come on bro it's time you woke up, open your eyes."

_Sammy again, he__'__s not gonna let me sleep and he__'__s gonna break my hand in a minute._

Through cracked dry lips Dean said. "Need 10 more minutes, dude." Even to his own ears his voice sounded rusty from disuse.

The sound of a chair scraping across a floor and then Sam's voice came from close by. "Dean?" It was a question.

With a huge effort Dean forced his recalcitrant eyes open the blur above him morphed into Sam's frowning, worried face.

"In the flesh," he rasped out, adding, "dude my hand."

"Oh, sorry." Sam said, loosening his grip but not letting go of squished extremity.

Sam looked exhausted his face was drawn his eyes puffy. Dean had to ask.

"You okay?"

"Yeah I'm good… now. How you feelin'?"

"I'm good… tired though." Dean's stock standard answer as his eyes drifted shut.

"No, no, no, Dean you gotta stay awake."

"Don't wanna… tired."

"Dean please try to stay awake, while I get the doctor."

"Too… tired."

The next thing Dean knew there was someone shining a bright light into his eye and saying. "Dean, can you hear me? I'm Dr. Davidson."

"Hey stop that… light... hurts." Dean said swatting at the hand holding the light.

Dean sort out the face that was attached to the arm holding the light.

A pleasant looking man with a bed head of silver hair smiled down at him.

He smiled saying. "Hello Dean it's good to see you're awake, follow my finger, please?"

Dean did as he asked following the finger from right to left, when the finger went to the left it disappeared from view.

"Can't see it, it's… gone."

"That's because your left eye is covered."

Dean lifted a shaking hand towards the eye, feeling the pull of an IV in the back of his hand.

Before he could touch the bandage the doc gently pushed Dean's hand back down.

"Don't touch. Dean, I'm going to test your reflexes."

"Nar leave me alone… wanna go to sleep."

Sam's slightly pissy voice interrupted. "Dean let Dr. Davidson do his job then you can sleep."

"Bossy." Dean answered.

Dr Davidson lifted the back of the bed to almost a sitting position.

Dean allowed the doctor to check his reflexes and movement without further comment except when the doctor asked him a question, can you feel that, repeat this, move that.

When he had finished Dean asked "Did I pass doc?"

Dr Davidson smiled and said. "I think I'll give you a B plus."

Dean tried to smile but a sudden wave of nausea hit him, he swallowed hard trying to tramp it down.

Seeing the greenish tinge and the change of expression in Dean's face, Sam asked worriedly. "Dean you alright?"

"Gonna be… sick.' Dean gasped, leaning forward.

The doctor reacted quickly pushing a plastic bowl under Dean's chin as he retched helplessly into it.

There was nothing solid to bring up, except bile and mucous.

When it was over Dean laid his head back against the pillow. Sam noted with alarm he was even paler than before his stomach revolted.

Sam leaned over him rubbing his arm and smoothing his short hair back from his forehead.

"Feel better?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded, which was a mistake as the room tilted precariously, his stomach again threatening a revolt.

"Whoa, mistake."

It was a long few seconds before the room righted itself and his stomach settled back into place.

"Nausea and vomiting are to be expected after a head injury," Dr. Davidson explained, adding, "I'll organize a nurse to give you something for nausea in the IV that should help."

The doctor lowered the head of the bed a little.

He smiled down at Dean. "I'll let you rest now, try not to move your head too much."

"Thanks doc." Sam said.

"No problem." The doctor said as he moved away leaving the room.

Dean wanted to thank the doc, but he was so tired he closed his eyes. He heard Sam move away from the bed. _No, don't go?_

He heard a faucet turn on and off to his left. A moment later Sam was back beside him he felt the cool touch of a face washer against his forehead as Sam smoothed the soft damp cloth over his skin.

The soothing motion and the closeness of his brother lulled Dean back into a dreamless sleep.

_Thanks Sammy._

_**Monday morning at the Athens Memorial Hospital, 2007**_

Sam arrived at the nurse's station on level four, refreshed and rested after a dreamless and refreshing night's sleep the best and only full night's sleep he'd had in over a week.

The sleep of contentment now he had his brother back.

Dean had been transferred to a room on level 4, some time the evening before after Sam had left his brother sleeping peacefully.

He stopped at the nurses' station. The older lady with a kindly face smiled at him.

Can I help you?"

"Dean Vincent's room please." He asked returning her smile.

"He's in 415 at the end of the hall turn right second on the left. Dr. Woodruff would like to speak with you before you go in to see Dean."

"Dr. Woodruff? Dr. Davidson isn't here?"

"Dr. Davidson is an ER doctor; Dr. Woodruff is the head doctor on this level, please take a seat I'll tell him you're here."

Sam waited on yet another uncomfortable chair, five minutes later a man approached him and introduced himself as Dr. Woodruff.

Sam couldn't put his finger on why he took an instant dislike to him. Sam stood towering over the man.

In his late forties Dr. Woodruff was rather nondescript short, barely scraping the five feet mark; thin with pale eyes thinning blonde hair and a high whinny voice.

Seeing the annoyed frown on his face as Sam stood understood the doctor's problem. _He__'__s got short person syndrome._

Dr Woodruff looked up at Sam's lofty height.

"I'm your brother's doctor, there's no sign yet of a subdural hematoma, another CT scan is organized for this afternoon, do you have any questions?"

"That's it?

Dr. Woodruff gave him a blank look.

"No, no questions. Can I see him now?"

He nodded a curt yes, and then said. "One thing because of the circumstances of your brother's injury I've informed the police, they will be here later today to interview him."

Sam was a good actor he answered with. "Well that's good to know; hopefully they can discover who is responsible for doing this to my brother."

With another curt nod, Dr. Woodruff slunk away.

_Yeah right, fat chance, they've probably been dead for years._

Dean had woken briefly realizing he was being moved the lights of a hallway flashed by above him then he was in an elevator and then another hallway before the movement stopped.

The next time he awoke Sam was standing beside the bed.

"Hey." He said.

"Hey how you feelin'?"

"Better. He tried to push himself up in the bed; the movement unleashed a wave of dizziness.

Sam must have had seen the signs he picked up the small plastic bowl from the bed tray and shoving it in Dean's direction.

Dean lifted his hand to push the bowl away. "It's okay Sam I'm not gonna hurl, just a bit dizzy… its, its passing."

"You sure?"

"Yeah I'm good."

"Man I gotta tell you look like crap."

"Yeah well so did you last time I saw you."

"Looks like you're getting back to old self."

"You know me Sammy, I bounce back."

Sam smiled as he pulled up a chair beside the bed. "Dean, we've got a problem."

"We do, what problem?"

"Dr Woodruff called the police."

"Dr. Who?"

"Dr. Woodruff. I take it you haven't met him yet? Wait until you do he's a real sweetheart."

Dean smiled as Sam continued. "What are we gonna tell the cops?"

"I'll tell em' I don't remember anything until I woke up here and you can pick it up from there with how you found me and brought me here."

"Think they'll buy it?"

"Yeah they will."

They both knew their Id's and all their details were rock solid and there was no way they could be traced back to St. Louis.

When the finer points of their story hammered out Dean said.

"So Sam I'm guessing you figured out about that time tunnel thing?"

"Yeah thanks to Bobby, he told me about it. He says there are these doors in time that sometimes open up."

"Who would have thought Bobby believed in time travel?"

"It's just as well he does."

"Why?"

"You'd be dead."

Dean nodded. "Can't argue with that."

"You know the worst thing was about this whole thing I had to wait a week before the door opened again. I went every night hoping… you know just in case it opened before that. Bobby said that when it did open, it would only be for a few minutes. I was only just in time; when I found you they were in the process of giving you a… lobotomy."

The terrifying moment he had found Dean and thinking he was too late was still clear in Sam's memory.

"I don't remember that. Is that why I've got this?" Dean touched the bandage over his eye.

Sam nodded "You were unconscious, from the shock treatment. When I found you there was a metal skewer thing in your eye."

"I remember the shock treatment."

"Yeah me too."

"What? What do you mean by that?"

"I felt it all Dean everything they did to you all of it first thing was the ice cold then the shock therapy. Somehow I was connected to you I felt what you felt."

"Whoa Sam I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? I'm sure it was much worse for you?"

"I mean I'm sorry you had to see it or feel it... you know?" Dean paused, hating the look on Sam's face. "Do you think it was something to do with that whole psychic thing of yours?"

"Yeah… no, I don't know…maybe."

Dean's mind wandered to every horror filled minute of the torment he had suffered at the hands of the doctor the matron and the fugly orderlies. Being strapped down injected with drugs. The hunger and the thirst. The blood in his veins turning to ice in the freezing cold of the tub. The agony of the electricity running through his weakened body, not once but twice, the second time thankfully Sam had found him before they were able to complete their task of supposedly making him better. And knowing Sam had felt it too made the whole thing worse.

Dean pushed the memories away. He looked into Sam's hazel eyes saying sincerely. "Well thanks Sammy for coming to get me…I owe you man."

"I don't think so Dean, for a change I was able to save your ass."

"Well in that case let's call it even, bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean smiled, the love and gratitude he felt for his brother evident in the depths of his uncovered eye.

"_I love you bro I would do it again in a heartbeat. _Although Sam didn't say the words he knew Dean knew.

Sam returned Dean's smile. Dean said simply. "Yeah, me too."

_**Monday Afternoon at the Athens Memorial Hospital**_

The police arrived mid afternoon. They'd interviewed the brothers asking a few questions and querying some of their answers but for the most part they accepted the brother's account of the events of the last week. Dean had claimed he couldn't recall anything of the time he was missing, which they seemed to accept.

Before they left one of the cops had told Dean he thought he was lucky he hadn't ended up dead like the others who had disappeared and turned up dead.

After the door closed behind the officers, Dean said "That went well."

"Yeah, I'm glad that's over with." Sam said seated in the chair beside Dean's bed.

"Sam you know this isn't over right?"

"What do mean? Your back, your okay well… mostly, the police are satisfied, it's over."

"No it's not. Sam, we have to find a way to close that door permanently, sooner or later someone else is gonna get into that building at the right time or is that the wrong time and they won't have someone like you to come in and rescue them I like did."

"Yeah, yeah you're right. Maybe Bobby's got some idea on how to close it permanently.

The door opened to an orderly. "Time for your CT scan, Mr. Vincent."

"I'm all yours." Dean said with a smile.

When Dean returned from the scan nearly an hour later Sam relayed his latest phone conversation with Bobby.

"So Bobby thinks fire will close the door?" Dean asked.

"He said he thinks fire should close the door permanently."

"Should?"

"Yeah."

"So we gotta burn the building down?"

"Yeah I guess."

"Makes sense if there's no building there's no door."

"I'll do it tonight."

"No way Sam you're not doing it alone."

"You're not coming with me, you're staying here."

"Come on Sam, I'm fine, I wanna get out of here."

"No way, not until the doctors say."

"I'll sign myself out."

"Okay I'll make you a deal. I won't go to the asylum until you're released and then you can come with me."

"Oh come on Sam." Dean said petulantly.

"Dude, what are you six?"

When Dean didn't answer Sam asked. "Do we have a deal not?"

Dean's second CT scan showed no signs a hematoma.

So Dean insisted he was well enough to be discharged.

Dr. Woodruff was none too pleased when Dean told him as much. He huffed and puffed as he removed the cover from Dean's eye, then squeezed a few eye drops into it.

"These may sting for a moment. You know you can't be too careful with head injuries you could still develop a hematoma, I would like you to stay for a couple more days to be sure."

"Look doc I feel fine, no headaches, no more nausea, vomiting, I've got Sam looking out for me, and if anything happens I'll come right back, promise."

Dr Woodruff's stood back from the bed his colorless eyes looked from Dean to Sam and back to Dean.

"It's against my better judgment, but alright I'll organize the paperwork and a prescription for some of these antibiotic drops for that eye."

After the charming doctor left Sam looked hard at Dean. His brother didn't look that great, his color wasn't good and to spite Dean's best effort to hide it; his hands trembled.

Dean felt Sam's eyes on him and returned the look with one of his own.

"What's your problem Sam?"

"You. I dunno whether discharging yourself so soon is such a good idea."

Dean seemed suddenly unable to meet Sam's eyes looking away before answering.

"I'm fine Sam."

The recently uncovered eye was bloodshot and the paleness of his skin made the indigo colored bruise around his right eye look almost black.

Sam stared at Dean for so long he started to squirm and fidget under his brother's scrutiny, pulling at the edge of the sheet.

"I don't know about that, you still don't look great."

"I can rest up just as well in the motel as here Sam." Dean said looking back at Sam trying to imitate Sam's patented puppy dog eyes and failing miserably.

Sam sighed. "Alright, but if things change I'm bringing you straight back here, understood?"

Dean smiled and said. "See I said you were the bossy one."

"Alright but we're not going to the asylum tonight."

The smile faded from Dean's face. "Why not?"

"Because I'm taking you straight to the motel and you dear brother are gonna stay there in bed for the next twenty four hours, end of story."

"Oh come on Sam."

Sam stood turning towards the door.

"I'll go tell Dr. Woodruff you'll be staying then."

Dean reached out and grasped Sam's sleeve, preventing him from moving any further.

"Alright alright, you win; we'll go back to the motel."

Sam turned back to Dean with a smile as wide as a split watermelon.

"I knew you'd see reason."

"This is blackmail," Dean said with a sour look on his face, adding. "So where's my clothes?"

"In your duffle back at the motel I didn't know you'd need them this soon."

"Oh come on; what the hell am I gonna put on?"

Sam began going through the bedside draws coming across the laundered pressed and neatly folded asylum pajamas Dean was wearing when he had been admitted.

"Guess you'll be wearing these."

If looks could kill Sam would have been six feet under.

"You've gotta be kiddin me?"

_**To be continued…**_

Thanks for reading, please review.

_Silvertayl_


	6. Chapter 6

**A DOOR IN TIME (REVISED)**

_A Supernatural story by: Silvertayl _

**Disclaimer and Story Summary:**

See Chapter 1

**Authors Notes:**

This is being posted without a beta. So forgive grammatical and spelling mistakes.

**Chapter 6**

_**Tuesday Afternoon at the University Inn, Athens Ohio**_

After dropping Dean at the motel Sam made a quick trip to the gas station the now full cans stowed in the trunk of the Impala. Entering the motel room he heard the shower running from behind the closed bathroom door.

"Dean, I'm back." He called out loud enough for Dean to hear him from the bathroom.

Dean's muffled voice floated to him. "No kiddin' I'll be out in a minute."

Dean sounded more like his usual sarcastic self but Sam was worried.

Dean seemed to be drowsy and confused. Sam hoped these were passing symptoms of the trauma Dean had gone through and not signs of something worse.

The conversation he'd had with Dean before he'd gone out had set off a nagging worry in his gut.

"Sam, tell me why are we still here again?"

"Dean you know why we have to close that door tonight, we can't leave until it's done; remember?"

"Yeah of course we do," seeing the worried frown on Sam's face as he eyed him with suspicion he added, "sorry I'm a bit wiped out, I guess that's what lying around in a hospital bed will do to you."

"Are you sure that's all it is I think this was a mistake, I'm taking you back to the hospital."

"No. No you're not. I'm not goin' back, I'm fine, Sam. Besides we've got work to do. You go and get the gas I'm gonna take a shower."

Sam followed Dean with his eyes as he gathered clean clothes and headed into the bathroom closing the door.

Dean felt Sam's eyes on him as he went into the bathroom. He closed the door and leant his back against it. A minute later he heard the sound of the door opening and closing. He slid down the door until his butt was on the cool tiles of the floor he swallowed hard took deep breaths waiting for the sudden onset of nausea and double vision the clear.

It didn't. The bile rising in his throat had him shimmying across the floor to the toilet leaning over it with a desperate grip on the porcelain he lost his breakfast.

He had been feeling off all day, lethargic, drowsy and he was having trouble remembering things. He knew Sam would insist he go back to the hospital if he showed any sign of illness or weakness. But as the day went on he was finding it harder and harder not to let it show.

_Maybe Sam was right maybe I should have stayed at the hospital?_

Feeling a little better now he reached up and pushed the button flushing away all traces off his sickness. Using the toilet for support he got to his feet closed the lid and sat down.

He knew Sam wouldn't be gone long. So he reached over and turned on the shower as the room filled with steam he pulled off his shirt and tee toed off his boots and socks then shucked off his jeans and boxers.

Climbing over the side of the tube was hard when your legs were shaking and your vision was see-sawing. Once he was safely in he put one hand against the tiles for support and leaned in letting the hot flow of water fill and rinse his mouth and fall steadily onto his upturned face.

The water had begun to cool when he heard the door once again open and close.

A second later Sam called out. "Dean, I'm back."

"No kiddin' I'll be out in a minute." Dean called back hoping Sam wouldn't hear the shake in his voice.

Dean shut off the now cool water stepping carefully out of the tub and toweled himself as dry as he could without expending too much of his virtually nonexistent energy.

He laid the damp towel on the closed toilet lid sat down and began to dress. He was pulling on his boots when the nausea hit him again this time it was accompanied by a Phil Collins drum solo pulsing behind his eyes and pounding inside his skull

The nausea passed without him needing to ride the porcelain bus. He waited for another minute trying to get himself together before he hauled himself up. If he stayed here too much longer Sam would more than likely bust down the door.

Dean looked in the mirror. He looked liked crap. _Can__'__t let Sammy see I__'__m sick, he'll make me go back to the hospital._

He lightly slapped his cheeks to bring some color into his face, took a deep steadying breath and trying to ignore the throbbing in his head he opened the door and walked the short distance to the bed.

"Did you get everything we need?" He said as he sat down on the bed.

"Uh huh, you okay man? You look a little… strange."

"Will you stop asking me if I'm okay, I'm okay!" The outburst cost him the throbbing in head picked up tempo.

Sam looked unconvinced. "You know what Dr. Woodruff said, you could still develop a clot."

"Look Sam here's the deal when we've finished this, I'll voluntarily go back to the hospital and let em' check me over."

"Alright then, straight after."

_**Tuesday Evening at the Asylum**_

The double vision that had come on earlier was now almost constant and the drowsiness and headache was dragging on his senses and his limbs. Dean knew if he had told Sam too drive he would know he was in trouble, and insist on him going back to the hospital before they got the job done.

Torching the asylum was something Dean had to do. He had to be there. It was the least he could do as payback for the innocent victims of that god damned door in time and also for himself and what he had endured for a week in another era.

The drum solo in Dean's head was now accompanied by a brass band, making it hard to think clearly.

Dean heaved a sigh of relief when he pulled the Impala up outside the fence surrounding the asylum. _At least I didn't wrap us around a tree we made it here in one piece._

Sam got out of the car. Dean went to follow him his knees buckled under him, almost sending him to the ground. He clutched at the door so he wouldn't end up face first in the dirt. _Please don't let Sam have seen that. _He looked over to where Sam was already behind the car with his head in the trunk gathering the gas cans and other supplies they would need.

Dean moved around to the trunk using the body of the car for support.

Sam handed him one of the cans a flash light, a book of matches and the bolt cutters saying. "We're gonna need these; they've put a new lock on."

Dean took all of the items trying to hide their shaking from Sam_._

Thankfully Sam was no longer paying any attention to him; he was checking his flash light to make sure the batteries were good.

Dean tried to control the sudden trembling that radiated from his hands invading the rest of his body and slowly moved to the fence. _God this can is heavy, why does it seem so heavy?_

Dean cut the lock as Sam moved up behind him; Dean hung back letting Sam lead the way up the steps and into the asylum.

Once inside Sam headed to the stairs leading to the upper floor. Upon reaching the top he turned back to Dean. Dean wasn't behind him where Sam expected him to be; he was still standing at the bottom.

Sam turned his flash light down the stairs onto his brother.

"Dean? Something wrong?"

Dean didn't answer but started up the stairs he had hold of the metal railing with one hand and was balancing the flash light and the gas can in the other hand as he slowly climbed up to where Sam waited.

"Get that light out my face, I'm coming." Dean said angrily lifting his hand from the railing to shield his eyes.

"Come on dude get the lead out." Sam said.

Sam shone the light down at his feet waiting as Dean resumed climbing.

_Something__'__s definitely not right with him._

Dean couldn't work out which was the right Sam from the two Sam's looking worriedly at him as he finally planted his feet at the top of the stairs and leaned against the wall.

"What?" Dean asked, annoyed.

"I'm taking you back to the hospital after this is over."

"Whatever, let's just get it done." Dean said irritably.

_Damn it he__'__s on to me._

He pushed himself away from the wall and moved down the corridor.

They made their way to the end of the corridor with the treatment room back peddling sprinkling gas into each room and the corridor itself as they went.

When they were almost back to the stairs they had used all of the gas.

Dean had made sure he splashed extra into room 6; painfully aware his movements were becoming more uncoordinated with each passing minute.

"You can do the honour." Sam said glancing at Dean in the dim light of the corridor, and then moved back a few steps.

Dean took the match book from his pocket, pulled off a match and struck it, the small light from the match illuminating his pale face for a second before he threw the match down and stood back next to Sam.

The fire roared to life, ribbons of flame snaking hurriedly away down the corridor, seeking out the trail of gas where ever it went, sneaking through the doorways, along the counter of the nurse's station, around the corner into the second corridor.

Within thirty seconds the whole place was roaring with flame.

Sam and Dean stood silently watching the fire, the heat from of the flames warming their faces.

"That should do it." Dean said. He looked at Sam and saw the two Sam's all fuzzy around the edges, in the glow from the flames.

"I think so." Sam said returning Dean's glance.

"Let's get outta' here before we're extra crispy."

"Good idea."

Picking up the empty gas cans, they made their way back down the stairs.

Dean was growing weaker with every step he took, his limbs now so weak he could barely coordinate his hold on the railing, with putting one foot in front of the other as he tried to descend the stairs.

Eventually he reached the entrance and followed Sam out into the moonlit night.

Sam was already at the car looking back at the flames now broaching the roof and shooting toward the heavens.

Dean was a few paces from the car when his legs finally gave out, he went down hard on his knees in the dirt dropping the empty can and the flashlight from his suddenly lax hands. His headache now pounding in time with the beat of his heart. Darkness was closing in on his vision as he saw Sam start towards him.

"DEAN!"

"Sam… help… me." Dean whispered as he fell onto his side.

Sam reached him as just as his eyes rolled up into his head and his body began to jerk and stiffen as he was gripped by a violent seizure.

_**Tuesday Evening at the Asylum**_

Sam had retrieved the bolt cutters lying next to the open gate by the fence and put them, his empty can and the flash light into the trunk and was standing leaning against the car watching the flames now coming from the roof of the asylum leap skywards.

He looked from the flames to Dean who had stopped six feet from him and the car.

When Sam saw Dean go down on his knees; dropping the can and flash light. He knew Dean was in trouble.

Sam felt the world had gone into 33 1/3 RPM as he started towards his brother with a cry of. **"**Dean!**"**

He had only taken two steps forward when in front of his horrified eyes; Sam saw Dean's mouth moving, saying something that Sam couldn't hear a moment before Dean collapsed onto his side in the dirt.

When Sam reached him, after what seemed to Sam like an eon; the world returned to its regular speed.

Dean was seizing uncontrollably, his head was thrown back his body stiff and jerking, his hands and jaw clenched; his eyes were half open with only the whites visible.

"Oh god Dean, I should have realized." Sam said breathlessly.

Sam rolled Dean onto his back quickly he undid his belt slid it out of the loops before jamming it in between Dean's teeth and pulling it tight. This would prevent him from biting off his tongue in the throes of the seizure.

Sam whipped off his jacket wadded it up and pushed it under Dean's head to help cushion his head from the constant banging against the hard ground.

Sam laid his hands on Dean's shoulders just so he had some sort of contact with his brother, feeling Dean's body jumping and jerking spasmodically under his palms.

As Sam watched Dean helplessly, Dr. Woodruff's departing words to Sam of the warning signs to watch for that would indicate a blood clot on the brain were ringing in his ears.

"_Confusion, drowsiness, lapses in memory__; headache, nausea, vomiting and the worst of all seizures.__"_

Dean had been showing some of the signs all day. _That__'__s why he was in the bathroom for so long earlier, how could I have been stupid enough to not see what was goin__'__ on with him._

After what seemed to Sam like a life time, but was only three or four minutes, Dean's body gradually stopped jerking and relaxed against the ground - the seizure was over. Dean's face and jaw had gone slack, his eyes still glazed and half open showing no recognition that he knew Sam was there beside him.

Sam gently laid his hands on each side of Dean's face. "Dean, man you hear me?" Dean showed no reaction to Sam's quiet voice.

Sam removed the jacket from under Dean's head and pulled the belt out from between his teeth, a distinct set of teeth marks marred the leather.

He gathered up the things Dean had dropped and his belt and jacket dashing back to the Impala opened the back door closest to where Dean was lying and threw the jacket and the belt onto the floor. The other things he threw in the trunk and slammed it shut, before racing back to Dean who was still lying as Sam had left him.

"Dean, you with me bro?" Dean did not respond to Sam's gentle voice or his hand stroking his hair back from his clammy forehead. No green irises were visible only the whites of his eyes clearly visible through the slits of his eyes.

From on his knees beside Dean, Sam pulled Dean into a sitting position and slid one arm into the hollow of his neck and the other hand under Dean's knees. Sam took a deep breath and as he exhaled he stood, lifting Dean in his arms.

Dean was not as tall as Sam but he was all muscle and heavy, but Sam bore Dean's weight easily as the adrenaline pumping through his body gave him the strength to lift his stricken brother and carry him with ease the short distance to the car. Sam maneuvered Dean's upper body onto the back seat before running around to the other side opening the door with such force he nearly ripped it off the hinges he leaned in through the open door grasping Dean under the armpits, gently pulling him backwards until his whole body was laid out on the seat.

As precaution Sam pushed the belt back into Dean's mouth and the jacket under his head.

Slamming both back doors he slid in behind the wheel, turned the key and with a feeling of déjà vu guided the Impala out of the asylum grounds onto the road and towards the hospital.

_**Tuesday Evening at the Athens Memorial Hospital**_

Sam was horrified when Dean had seized again on the way to the hospital. He had risked a quick anxious glance over his shoulder at Dean but had kept driving. _The best way I can help him at the moment is to keep driving._

Sam again had parked in the ambulance bay. He opened the back door and pulled Dean into his arms and lifted him out of the car and carrying him into the ER. Sam's eyes scanning the place for someone anyone to help him. Sam moved forward down the deserted corridor.

"Someone help me please, my brother needs help." He yelled loudly.

The pretty redheaded nurse that had been there the last time appeared from one of the rooms and moved towards him. When she saw Sam was carrying his brother she motioned Sam towards one of the nearby treatment rooms.

"Bring him in here," then added in a loud firm voice, "Dr. Davidson I need you in exam 1 stat."

She quickly moved to the door and held it open for Sam as he moved past her and gently laid Dean on the gurney.

Sam straightened and moved back as the doctor pushed past him to Dean's side.

"What happened?" His tone was brusque.

"He's had two seizures."

"How long ago?" The doctor asked as he was examining Dean.

"The first was about thirty minutes ago, the second about ten minutes ago in the car."

"How long did they last?"

"Err, about three maybe four minutes."

"Has he been conscious or said anything since either?"

"No."

The redhead was taking Dean's vitals and relaying them to the doctor, in between the doctor firing questions at Sam.

He lifted Dean's eyelids and shone a light into each eye, saying as he did so.

"Dean. Can you hear me?"

Sam felt a hand on his arm and turned to see the redhead had moved away from beside the gurney and was standing beside him; she smiled sadly at him.

"You'll have to wait outside, I'm sorry."

Sam stole a glance at Dean but could see only his boots and the cuffs of his jeans, as Dr. Davidson leaned over Dean blocking the rest of him from Sam's sight.

Sam looked back at the redhead and said.

"Please, he's all I've got."

"We'll take care of him for you, please wait outside and the doctor will come and speak with you when he's finished his examination."

Sam paced the corridor outside. Two more hospital staff had entered the room but for ten minutes no one had emerged. He stopped mid stride when the door was at last flung open and Dean was wheeled out into the corridor by Dr. Davidson and three others, they hurried towards the elevator.

The lower part of Dean's face was covered by an oxygen mask and he was hooked up to an IV and various monitors and equipment. All of which was being rushed along beside the bed by the hospital staff.

"Doctor what's happening to my brother? Where are you taking him?" Sam asked as he too hurried along beside the bed.

They reached the elevator and Dr. Davidson pressed the button marked two, then spoke to Sam.

"He had another seizure while I was examining him. We've stabilized him and we're taking him for a CT scan, it seems he's developed a clot and it's putting pressure on the brain that's why he's seizing. The CT will show us the exact location of the clot and then we'll have to operate to drain the clot and relieve the pressure."

"Is he going to be okay?" Sam said as the elevator doors opened and they pushed Dean inside.

"It's not good I'm afraid, surgery on the brain is very risky so I've called in a neurosurgeon to operate she'll tell you more when she arrives."

With that the doors closed, leaving Sam staring helplessly at the steel doors.

_**Wednesday Morning at the Athens Memorial Hospital**_

The neurosurgeon had introduced herself to Sam as Dr. Sheppard. She explained to him the procedure she was going to perform on Dean. The surgery involved drilling two small holes in Dean's forehead above his right eye down at a forty five degree angle into the blood clot which was located behind his right eye and drain the blood and fluid away through the holes. Two tubes would be inserted into the holes to keep the clot draining and from filling up again. She explained that all brain surgery was very delicate and risky, but she would do her best for his brother and was confident that the surgery would be successful.

Sam looked at Dr. Sheppard's kindly face she was a tall slim woman around fifty her long brown hair had blonde highlights subtlety blending in the sprinkling of gray at each temple; she had laughter lines around her eyes.

Sam knew instantly he could trust her and that she would do her best for Dean.

"Can I see him before the surgery doctor?" Sam asked hopefully.

"You can go in now while I scrub in, don't be too alarmed when you see him he's wired up to all kinds of equipment and as we need to monitor him closely and he's sedated to control the seizures."

Sam had only known Dean as tough and strong never had he seen him like this. Lying on the gurney Dean looked vulnerable and fragile like bone china ready to shatter at the slightest touch his bare chest was covered in pads attached to the monitors, two IV's snaked from the back of each hand, and a ventilator had now replaced the oxygen mask. For the second time in a week Sam thought Dean looked so young and so unlike the Dean he knew and loved, his long dark lashes shadowed the purple smudges of illness under his eyes.

This was the Dean Sam had only seen a handful of times in his life, and it frightened Sam, because Sam knew that there was every possibility he could lose him.

_What if he doesn't make it through the surgery? What will I do without him? _

Sam gently squeezed Dean's fingers so as not to disturb the IVs in Dean's hands.

"I'm here Dean and I'll be here when you wake up, I know how strong you are you can get through this Dean, please for me, coz I need my big brother, I can't make it without you."

That was an hour and a half ago and Dean was still in surgery. Sam was pacing again back and forth across the waiting room across from the operating theatre. Twenty minutes ago a staff member had brought him a cup of sludge that they passed off as coffee, it sat untouched on the small table in the corner.

Next time he paced back towards the operating theater doors they opened and Dr. Sheppard came through removing her operating gown and cap.

The doctor saw Sam and smiled at him, Sam relaxed a little when he saw that smile. _That must mean something good, surely._

Sam stood rooted to the spot as Dr. Sheppard come to him.

"How's my brother?" Sam asked her.

"He came through the surgery, I've drained the clot and put the drainage tubes in place, he's still in recovery, shortly they will be taking him to the ICU, and he'll stay there for at least the next twenty four hours he's on a ventilator and under sedation. We'll ease off the sedation in a day or two and then he'll be taken off the ventilator. When he's fully awake I'll assess him to see if there's any damage to the brain from the pressure of the hematoma, the blood clot."

"When can I see him?" Sam asked.

"When he's settled in the ICU, you can see him, but of course he's sedated so he won't be awake."

"Yes, I understand, thank you doctor."

"It's my pleasure; I'll come and see him later to see how he's getting on, now if you'll excuse me, I'll go and get cleaned up." Then she walked away.

After Dr. Sheppard disappeared back through the doors Sam sat down on the nearest chair in the waiting room. He was glad he was alone because the tears that he had been keeping at bay for the last three hours started to fall.

_**Thursday Afternoon at the Athens Memorial Hospital**_

Dean was at the bottom of a deep, dark hole, he struggled desperately to push himself up through the darkness that seemed to be keeping him in its grip; but the darkness had a strange power a gravity that was holding him down like invisible hands.

Up high above him he saw a dim light; he renewed his effort to break away from the darkness, straining towards the faint light. Dean knew the source of the light was where Sam was; Sammy needed him and he needed Sam.

The strange gravity wrapped around him, the invisible dark hands pulled him down further and further away from the light and away from Sam.

"No." He yelled, the word echoing around him in the darkness.

Then the light was snuffed out gone and he was engulfed in complete darkness and silence.

The next thing Dean was aware of was that the darkness had lightened and he was no longer being held down by the invisible hands. The light that before had been dim and far above him, was now bright and surrounding him pressing against his closed eye lids.

Dean wanted to open his eyes but someone had put lead weights on them and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't force them open. _I'll try again... later._

It was then he became aware of other things instigating their way into his senses, noises, a beeping, a click followed by a swooshing, followed by another click. These sounds seemed strangely familiar.

There were voices as well, talking softly nearby. Dean caught snatches of their conversation in between the beeping, swooshing and clicking.

"..e'll fight …. ventilat … when … wakes …. he hates …. tube... his throat."

_Hey that__'__s Sam, thank god he__'__s alright._

"..en I'll… have … sedate … ain."

The problem of opening his eyes was a moot point when his right eye was forced open and a bright light shone into it then the same with the left eye.

Dean tried to lift his hand to shield his eyes from the light, but the lead weights had been transferred from his eyelids to his hands, and something else was going on with his hands, there was something pulling against the skin in the back of them.

_And what the hell is that in my mouth? It feels like there__'__s something in there going down my throat. Beeping, clicking, swooshing, something under the skin of my hands and something down my throat… wait, I know what this is, and I__'__m back in the hospital, on a ventilator and an IV's in my hands. Crap I hate that tube down my throat._

Now the parts of the conversation he had heard made sense, Sam was telling whoever it was that he hated the damned ventilator_. _

_Yeah, you tell __'__em Sammy, make __'__em take it out._

Dean tried to put the pieces of his fractured memory back together to remember how he'd come to be in this situation.

They were at the asylum they'd torched the place too close that damned door. Then other things came to him, tickling at his memory, the sickness and dizziness, the double vision and weakness in his limbs, and then he remembered collapsing to his knees in front of the Impala calling out to Sam, after that nothing; until the strange dream of the darkness keeping him away from the light, the light where Sam was waiting for him. Then the darkness pulled him back away from the light and away from Sam into oblivion.

_It doesn't explain why I'm on a damned ventilator? Have to open my eyes and find out what the hell is going on._

It was a huge effort but he got them open. Sam and some woman; _gotta be the one who shined the light in my eyes_. _A doctor, I guess. _

_They _were standing on each side of him; looking across him at each other holding a conversation in hushed tones.

Sam broke off what he was saying and looked down at him. It was as if he could sense he was awake.

"Dean, you're awake." He said surprised.

_Thanks for that astute observation, Captain Obvious._

The doctor leaned over Dean saying. "Don't try to talk you have a tube down your throat helping with your breathing, just relax and let the ventilator do the work."

That was the wrong thing to say as Dean did just the opposite and started to panic his throat tightened around the tube as he found himself unable to breath and started gasping and fighting the obstruction to his breathing.

He reached up to pull the offending tube out; the doctor intercepted his hand with her own pushing his back down easily.

"No Dean leave it, try to relax."

Dean struggled harder against the tube; real panic setting in, his wide desperate eyes pleading with Sam for help.

Sam leaned down and put his hands on Dean's shoulders, saying in his firmest John Winchester voice.

"Dean listen to me; you have to calm down or you're going to suffocate."

_I can__'__t Sammy, scared._

Black spots were dancing across his vision his body starved of precious oxygen.

With his hands still on Dean's shoulders, Sam looked helplessly at the doctor.

"Doctor can't you do something."

"I'm going to have to sedate him again." She answered reaching for a hypodermic and injecting it directly into the IV port in Dean's hand.

Dean was still struggling against the respirator, his body lifting off the bed his green eyes wide and staring face was flushed from his exertions.

The sedative started to take effect almost immediately his head relaxed against the pillow his eyelashes fluttered a couple of times and then closed and as the sedative sent him back into the darkness his breathing again under the control of the ventilator.

Sam looked down at Dean's still flushed but relaxed face and breathed a sigh of relief.

Dr. Sheppard checked the drainage tubes in Dean's forehead; thankfully Dean's exertions hadn't dislodged them.

Taking his hands away from Dean's shoulders he straightened and looked at Dr. Sheppard who checked Dean's IV lines before turning to the bank of monitors.

When she was finished Dr. Sheppard looked over at Sam and he smiled apologetically at her.

"He hates being on a ventilator he always reacts that way to them."

"I'm surprised a young man like him has been on a respirator more than once."

The doctor said fiddling with a lead running to the heart monitor.

"The first time was when he was 17 he had pneumonia and the second time when he was electrocuted."

"He has been unlucky it seems. Well not to worry we'll have to keep him sedated until he comes off the respirator; we don't want a repeat of this episode."

"When do you think that will be doctor? I mean coming off the respirator."

"If all goes well, tomorrow morning," She said as she moved around the bed to stand beside Sam, "in the mean time why don't you go and get some rest you look done in."

"Thanks for the concern doc but I'd rather stay with him."

She looked earnestly at him. "Sam, how long is it since you ate or slept?

Sam didn't answer.

"I thought so; you don't want to end up in here in a bed beside your brother. Dean will be sedated until at least tomorrow morning and I'm sure he won't be happy when he finds out you haven't eaten or slept since he's been in here," she waved him off, "now go, doctors' orders."

"Alright, alright, I'm going." Sam reached over grasped Dean's fingers squeezing them gently he looked down at his sleeping brother, "I'll be back in the morning bro, before you wake, behave yourself while I'm gone, don't give the nurses any grief."

"He's in good hands."

"I know, thanks doc, see in the morning." Then he left.

After the door had shut behind Sam Dr. Sheppard turned to the handsome young man lying on the in front of her, she noted his long dark eyelashes that any woman would envy, a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose, his full lips, she gently ran her fingers through his short hair light brown hair.

"If only I was twenty years younger, sleep tight Dean, I'll take out that tube tomorrow."

There was something about these brothers, one bought out the mother in her, and the other bought out the woman in her. She chastised herself_. _

_Look at him; he__'__s young enough to be your son._

_**Friday Morning at the Athens Memorial Hospital**_

Dean was back in the asylum, strapped to the operating table with Dr. Franklin looming above him smiling evilly and holding up a huge ice pick, a climbers' ice pick used when climbing an icy snow covered mountain.

_How can I be back here again? Sam saved me, he did?_

Dean opened his mouth to beg him not to use that thing on him, but his vocal cords seemed to be paralyzed by something jammed down his throat preventing him speaking his desperate plea.

Struggling ineffectually against the bindings holding him against the table, Dean felt tears of fear and frustration welling in his eyes. They spilled over his lashes to run across his temples and trail down onto the table beside his head.

Still smiling manically Dr. Franklin patted his shoulder.

"I knew you'd come back, now I can finish making you better, now hold still this won't hurt a bit."

With that he moved the ice pick slowly towards his eye.

Dean closed his eyes shutting out the vision of that huge ice pick descending towards his eye praying for a savior, a savior in the shape of his over-sized little brother.

_Sam, please save me._

All was quiet and after a few seconds nothing happened. His eye wasn't forced open and nothing was jabbed in it. Curiosity forced Dean to open his eyes. The one person he had been praying for; Sam. He was above him smiling down at him with his typical thin lipped Sammy smile.

"Hey man glad you could join us." Sam said his smile never wavered.

Dean slid his eyes from Sam to the person he could sense rather than see standing beside Sam.

"This is Dr. Sheppard; she's been looking after you." Sam said, seeing Dean's eyes slid to the doctor.

The attractive brunette that Dean thought he had seen before smiled a greeting. "Morning Dean you ready to lose that ventilator tube?"

_It was only a nightmare, thank god, I__'__m still on the damn ventilator though, yeah, yeah get it out now._

He lifted his hand right from the bed, giving her the thumbs up signal.

Sam stepped back away from the bed as the doctor took his place, she lifted the back of the bed until he was nearly sitting upright and disconnected the tube from the ventilator and took hold of the end of the tube protruding from his mouth, looking down into his eyes.

"When I say now I want you to exhale and I'll pull it out. You'll want to cough after it's out that's normal."

Dr. Sheppard grasped the tube in her hand. "Now."

Dean exhaled and closed his eyes, he felt the tube rushing up his throat and then it was gone and he could breathe again.

Taking in a huge breath Dean started to cough uncontrollably, the coughing gradually abated after a couple of agonizing minutes and Dean lay there drawing in huge gulps of air, feeling like he'd been chasing a werewolf for miles through a dense forest, he was exhausted and his throat felt raw and swollen.

Dean opened his eyes to see Sam anxiously looking at him. Dean gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"I'm okay Sammy, thirsty." It came dry and raspy, as if to prove his words.

Sam retrieved a small cup with a straw in it from the bed tray and held it to Dean's lips he drank greedily and felt the water trailing a cooling path down his sore burning throat.

"Not too fast." Dr. Sheppard said, and then added, "or you'll be sick."

At her the words of warning, the water hit Dean's empty stomach and was waging a war to decide whether it was going to stay down or make an encore appearance.

Dean took a couple of gulping deep breaths waiting for the war in his stomach to be decided one way or another. His stomach won the war and the water that had felt so good going down came rushing back up, warm and choking.

Dr. Sheppard could see what was going to happen; she had grabbed the plastic bowl next to the bed and placed it under Dean's chin just in time for the encore presentation of the water.

After Dean's stomach had finished rejecting the life giving moisture, she took the bowl away and wiped his face with a face towel from the bathroom saying.

"Let's try that again shall we, just a few small sips."

Dean did as he was told as Sam held the straw close to his lips; he took two tiny sips and let the straw go. Sam put the cup back down on the bed tray.

Dean watched on silently as the doctor picked up the clip board from the end of the bed and started writing something down, when she'd finished she replaced the clip board slipping the pen back in the pocket of her white coat before looking back at Dean.

"I want you to rest now; you've had surgery on your brain to drain away a hematoma, you're a lucky young man, you had us all very worried for a while, especially Sam. I'll come back later and run a few tests."

"Thanks doc." Dean said his voice still quiet and raspy.

"You're welcome; I'll see you two later." She said glancing from Dean to Sam then she turned and left the room.

Sam pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down.

"You want some more water?" Sam asked.

"Sounds good." His voice sounded foreign to his own ears.

Sam held the cup while Dean took a few more sips, when he'd finished he sighed saying.

"Thanks Sammy, so… what happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"I know we torched the asylum, I remember walking back to the car and then my legs felt weak my head hurt; I fell and then I saw you running towards me, that's about it."

"Man you really scared me, you were having a seizure, so I put you in the car and came straight here; you had another seizure in the car and another after we got here."

"Hmm, so Dr. Woodruff was right; guess I shoulda' stayed here huh?"

"You think?" Sam said sarcastically, and then added. "Dean you had a blood clot on the brain, Dr. Sheppard operated to drain the clot and release the pressure on your brain, you should see yourself, you've got drainage tubes in your head, man you're a mess."

"I have? I am?" Dean queried; he frowned worriedly reaching up to touch his head. "Where?"

"In your forehead."

Dean's fingers found the two tubes inserted above his right eye. "Shit Sam."

"I should have asked the doctor if she even found anything resembling a brain in there after she drilled holes through your thick skull." Sam's tone softened then. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

"I didn't want you to worry and besides I knew you'd make me come back here."

"You're unbelievable, do you realize you almost died."

"I'm sorry Sam." Dean said unable to meet Sam's hazel eyes, he stared at the cotton blanket neatly folded across his stomach.

Sam's expression softened when he saw Dean was genuine in his apology, his voice quiet when he said.

"What would I have done if you'd died, I need my big brother, and I can't make it without you." Repeating almost word for word what he'd said to him before the surgery when Dean was unconscious.

Dean looked up at Sam with suspiciously shiny eyes and repeated. "I'm sorry Sammy; it won't happen again, I promise."

Sam returned Dean's look and saw sincerity in his eyes. He smiled lopsidedly.

"If you do I'll kill you."

"Fair enough." Dean said with a smile and then felt his body griped by a sudden feeling of bone deep exhaustion.

Sam saw the change in Dean's expression and took hold of his forearm.

"Hey dude you alright?"

"I'm tired Sam I think I'd like to rest now."

"Of course, I'll go."

Sam half turned away but was stopped when Dean grasped his arm in a firm grip.

"No don't go stay, please?"

"Are you sure?"

Dean nodded; leaned back against the pillow and closed his eyes.

Sam lowered the top of the bed, half way between sitting and flat and sat in the chair beside Dean, when he thought Dean was asleep he took hold of Dean's fingers and laid his head on the bed next to his arm.

"I'm not goin' anywhere." He whispered quietly.

Sam never saw the smile that crossed Dean's pale face. He was aware enough to feel the Sam's warm hand wrapped around his fingers, the tickle of Sam's hair against his arm and his softly whispered words.

Dean drifted off to sleep, a deep, healing dreamless sleep; a smile clinging to his lips.

_**To be continued…**_


	7. Chapter 7

**A DOOR IN TIME (REVISED)**

_A Supernatural story by: Silvertayl _

**Disclaimer and Story Summary:**

See Chapter 1

**Authors Notes:**

This is being posted without a beta. So forgive grammatical and spelling mistakes.

**Chapter 7**

_**Thursday Morning at the Athens Memorial Hospital**_

Sam knew the conversation he had with Dean six days earlier, was the first reason Dean hadn't discharged himself until now. Sam believed he had finally got through Dean's thick skull that Dean couldn't keep treating himself like he didn't matter and wasn't important; because he was important very important to Sam and no doubt all the other people he'd saved and helped over the years.

The second reason and running a close second to Sam was the hot nurses lining up outside Dean's door to give him a bed bath and take care of his every need. Even the redhead from emergency, whose name they had found out was Millie had come up to the fourth floor after her shift and hovered about ready to assist Dean in any way possible.

When Dr. Sheppard pushed open the door to Dean's room she stood unnoticed for a moment observing the five occupants of the room. Sam sitting on a chair in the corner smiling at the three nurses around the bed giggling like school girls and taking turns to spoon feed Dean his breakfast. Dean was lapping up the attention and loving every minute of it.

Schooling her face to hide her amusement Dr. Sheppard cleared her throat exaggeratedly.

"Girls, I'm sure you have other patients that need attending too." She said sternly.

The nurse's heads whipped around at the sound of her voice; then they looked down at their feet mumbling.

"Yes Dr. Sheppard, of course Dr. Sheppard, sorry Dr. Sheppard." They then retreated to the door bumbling together and nearly tripping over each other in their haste to exit the room.

Dr. Sheppard could no longer hide her smile as she advanced further into the room.

"Morning Sam, Dean. Now Dean I thought I warned you about monopolizing the staff's time, I should have gone through with my threat and made sure you had all male nurses."

Dean gave her one of his brilliant smiles.

"Aww come on doc you wouldn't wanna' spoil their fun, it's not every day they get a patient as adorable as me; besides it's not my fault they find me irresistible they just can't stay away."

She returned his infectious smile. "Well it won't happen again because you're being discharged today."

"At last, that's great news doc, I'm outta' here." Dean said pushing the bed tray away he swung one leg off the bed.

"Dude, chill for a minute Dr. Sheppard said today not this very second." Sam reasoned holding his hand palm out in Dean's direction motioning him to slow down.

Dean looked disappointed as he flopped back onto the bed.

The doctor laughed at Dean's sulky childish pout.

"The results of the latest CT show no sign of the clot reforming, so after I check the incisions in your forehead and the paper work is all sorted you can go."

Two hours later Dean was pushed in a wheelchair to the entrance.

As the wheelchair was pushed into the room he protested

"No way I'm gonna leave here in that."

But when four nurses arrived one after the other and began fighting over which one of them was going to push him to the entrance he quickly changed his mind coming up with a solution that should satisfy them all; himself included.

He suggested that they take turns to push, reluctantly the girls agreed.

At the exit doors Dr. Sheppard was waiting, she rolled her eyes at Sam when she saw Dean's female entourage.

Sam shrugged one shoulder and gave her a lopsided smile.

"Hey doc, couldn't let me go without saying goodbye huh?" Dean said standing up from the wheelchair.

He turned to the nurses his eyes sliding across all four of them approvingly.

"Thanks girls I'll take it from here." He said with a killer smile.

They all looked disappointed and with a chorus of sad goodbyes they walked away; glancing back over their shoulders every few steps and giving him little waves.

Dean turned his attention back to the doctor.

"Well doc I guess this is goodbye, thanks for everything." He said holding out his hand a smile from ear to ear.

The doctor took his hand in hers and then in a spur of the moment action leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Dean looked as surprised as she seemed to be herself at the spontaneous action.

"You take care and I don't want to see either of you back here again, okay." She said glancing between the brothers.

"Will do." Dean said.

Then she moved to Sam and repeated the hand shake and the kiss on the cheek. _In for a penny in for a pound._

Sam looked embarrassed coloring slightly.

"I can't thank you enough; you saved my brother's life."

"Don't mention it Sam, I think things are going to be quiet around here without you two, but at least the nurses will get their work done."

With a wave in her direction they were gone.

She watched as the young handsome men walked away; across the car park towards a sleek black car parked at the back of the hospital parking lot.

The brothers had a slight altercation at the driver's side door. It appeared Dean wanted to drive and Sam was adamant that he was driving and Dean was a passenger.

Losing the brief argument Dean walked reluctantly around to the passenger side as Sam slid in behind the wheel; the doors slammed the big car's engine rumbled to life to life and they were on their way.

She stood there watching until the big car disappeared from view.

_**Thursday Evening at the University Inn, Athens Ohio**_

"Come on Sam have a heart, I think I deserve a decent meal after suffering hospital food for a week, I'd like to sit in a restaurant at a dining table and eat with a real knife and fork instead of those useless plastic ones. I'll even let you drive again."

Dean was trying his version of Sam's puppy dog look, hoping Sam would take pity on him.

"Alright, I saw an Italian pizza pasta place about a mile from here, we can go there." Sam replied with a smile. There was no way he could deny Dean this small thing after all he'd been through lately.

"Pizza and pasta, perfect."

Sam had been surprised when over dinner with a little coaxing Dean had opened up recounting to Sam the torments, so called treatments and the brutality of the muscle bound goons at the asylum.

Dean had made a request that they return to the burnt out asylum on Saturday night to be sure that the fire had successfully closed the door in time for ever.

- ADIT -

Sam didn't know what had woken him, he lay still his eyes shut listening for a repeat of whatever sound had awoken him.

All was quiet for a few moments before the silence was broken by a low moan pierced the dark from the direction of Dean's bed.

Sam rolled over and flicked the switch on the lamp on the table in between the two beds, his eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the light.

Dean was lying on his back which was unusual for him. His normal position being on his stomach.

As Sam watched Dean's head tossed from side to side his legs moved restlessly under the blanket.

Dean was having a nightmare. Sam didn't need to be a genius to know about what.

Sam was at Dean's side in a second; he sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at his brother.

Dean's eyes were closed a glisten of perspiration across his brow and upper lip shone in the lamp light. The two small marks left from the drainage tubes looked red and inflamed in the muted light.

Sam was unsure whether he should wake Dean. So he laid a hand on Dean's upper arm, hoping that the gentle touch would break the hold the nightmare had on his brother.

Dean's face screwed up in what appeared to be pain or the memory of pain; his head continued to toss the movement becoming more jerky and frantic.

Then he moaned again it was followed closely by a whispered plea.

"Please don't do this you're making a mistake."

Dean was reliving his time in the asylum.

Seeing Dean's growing distress Sam made the decision to wake him he shook his arm gently.

"Dean, wake up dude, you're dreaming."

Instead of waking Dean seemed to sink further into the nightmare his back arched off the bed, his head thrown back eyes scrunched up and his teeth were gritted. A groan escaped from between his clenched teeth.

Sam shook him harder and leaned close to Dean's straining face.

"Dean, It's me Sammy you're safe, wake up man you're scaring me."

As if his words had penetrated into the depths of the nightmare Sam felt Dean relax a little under his hands a moment later Dean's lids fluttered and opened, revealing confused green eyes. He blinked a few times as if bringing Sam's worried face into focus.

"Sammy? What are you doing?"

Sam patted Dean's chest with the palm of his hand. "You were having a nightmare, a pretty bad one."

"A nightmare?" Dean pulled his elbows under him and lifted himself off the mattress. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Don't worry about it." Sam said.

With another reassuring pat on Dean's arm he got off the bed going into the bathroom returning a moment later with a glass of water.

"Here drink some of this." He thrust the glass at Dean.

Dean sat up moved back so he was sitting with his back against the bed head and took the glass in hands that trembled just a little. He took a long swallow from the glass before putting the glass down on the lamp table.

"Thanks Sammy."

Sam sat down on the edge of his own bed facing his brother.

"Do you… wanna' talk about it?"

Dean dragged a hand down his face, gazing off into the darkness of the room.

"I was in the asylum with Dr. Frankenstein and that bitch of a matron, they… were giving me that shock treatment… again."

Sam nodded. "I figured it might have been something like that."

Dean looked up and across at Sam's concerned face.

"Sam, it was so real like it was happening again, I could feel the pain and the fear."

Sam gave Dean one of his thin lipped smile.

"I'm sure it felt real but it was a nightmare, Dean," Sam paused for a moment then continued, "They can't hurt you anymore."

"Yeah you're right," Dean nodded his head. "Okay Dr. Phil I'm good, go back to bed."

"You sure? I can sit with you for a while if you want?"

Dean gave an amused chuckle. "You gonna tuck me in and tell me a bedtime story. Dude I'm not six. Go back to bed cuz you need your beauty sleep Samantha."

Sam gave a snort of laughter and slid back under the bed covers. He gave Dean one more look then rolled over away from his brother and after a while he drifted back to sleep.

Dean sat in his bed looking at Sam's broad back, after a few minutes he heard the change in Sam's breathing and knew that his brother was sleep.

Dean sighed and closing his eyes he leaned his head back against the bed head, the nightmare playing an instant replay against his closed eyelids. He opened his eyes again willing it away.

The nightmare had been a nightly if unwanted companion for Dean since Sam rescued him from the asylum, every time he had closed his eyes or slept in the hospital, Dr. Franklin, Matron Reed, giant ice picks and shock therapy had been at the forefront of his mind.

Dean had hoped the nightmares would be magically gone when he was discharged but the first night away from the hospital it had come to him again.

Dean came to the conclusion that apart from going to a shrink which was never gonna happen the only way to put an end to the nightmares was going back to the asylum and making sure that door is closed permanently, putting his ghosts to rest for good.

That would give closure on this hunt that had turned bad for not only himself but Sam as well. Dean knew his brother had suffered emotionally while he had been missing for a week and the subsequent events of the week since, following Sam's rescuing him from the asylum and then his lifesaving operation.

Now it was a matter of trying to keep the nightmares at bay until Saturday night, when they visited the burnt out shell of the asylum for hopefully the last time.

_Okay so all I gotta do is stay awake for the next forty eight hours no sleeping no nightmares. Piece of cake._

_**Saturday Evening at the Asylum**_

The ground floor of the asylum was virtually untouched by the fire, the upper floor however was a chard ruin, and parts of the roof had collapsed in onto the floor. Through the gaping holes in the roof moon light cast an eerie silvery glow on the piles of debris.

Using flashlights and panning the EMF meter around the brothers picked their way carefully across the floor to the where the corridor of patient rooms had stood.

Dean began to clear away some of the rubble close to the wall.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked a note of humor in his voice.

Dean continued to shift bits of rubble. "We might as well sit while we wait Sammy."

With a space big enough for the both of them including Sam's extra long legs Dean sat with his back to the wall.

Sam slid down the wall to sit beside his brother propping the salt gun he had insisted on bringing against the wall in between them.

Dean looked down at the salt gun then up to Sam's face the glow of the moonlight casting a halo of silvery light around his profile.

"I still don't think we need that, there's no EMF reading in here."

"Dean, do we have to have this discussion again?"

Wrapped in silence they sat there as midnight came and went.

Nothing had changed; no drop in temperature no shimmering or shifting of the air.

Dean took the EMF meter out and switched it on swinging it in an arc in front of them. When the meter remained silent Dean observed.

"Well Sammy looks like it worked."

"So maybe you can get some sleep now?" Sam answered.

"What?"

"Come on Dean you think I can't see what's been going on? I'm with you 24/7 I know you haven't slept since you were discharged from the hospital."

"Sam." Dean said in a warning tone.

"Don't Sam me. It was because of the nightmares right?"

Dean rolled the back of his head up against the wall and sighed.

"Yeah you are. I figured that coming here tonight would probably put a stop to the nightmares to get closure as the experts are so fond of saying."

"I hope it does."

"You and me both Sammy," Dean turned to Sam and smiled, "come on let's get outta' here. I've seen enough of this place in one way or another or one time and another to last me a lifetime."

"There's a cooler in the car with a couple of cold beers in it."

Dean's smile widened. "Aww look at you, Sam the Boy Scout always prepared."

Sam returned Dean's smile lifting his arms up. "You bet."

Dean stood and put his hand down to Sam.

Sam picked up the salt gun and clasped Dean's hand hauling himself to his feet.

Moving slowly they began to pick their way back through the debris.

Without warning the EMF meter Dean had shoved back into his pocket squealed a loud warning.

"What the hell." Dean exclaimed

He reached into his pocket and pulled the squealing noisy meter out. It grew louder and more insistent the little red bulbs on top dancing on and off.

"Dean." Sam said his voice low.

His tone drew Dean's eyes to his face.

Sam was looking towards the end of the corridor. Dean followed the direction of Sam's eyes to the ghostly form hovering at the end of the corridor.

Dean's throat went dry and his eyes widened as the semi transparent spirit of Dr. William Franklin clad in dress shirt, suit pants and bow tie a giant ice pick in hand, hovered in front of them blocking their exit.

Franklin was looking at Dean; he spoke his voice echoing eerily towards them. "I knew you'd come back."

"Son of a bitch." Dean said in a low growl.

Without warning the spirit was gliding towards them with unbelievable speed.

Sam raised the salt gun to fire into the fast advancing form but before he could squeeze the trigger the spirit raised a hand in Sam's direction and Sam flew backwards, his back contacting against the wall several feet behind him, the gun falling from his hands with the force of the impact.

Franklin's advance ended a second after Sam hit the wall. He hit Dean in the chest with the full weight of his ghostly form knocking Dean flat on his back into a pile of debris from a fallen section of the roof.

Winded by the impact Dean tried desperately to draw breath. Before he could recover the deathly pale face of Franklin appeared above him; the spirit was hovering horizontally above him holding him against the floor with an invisible ghostly force.

Franklin raised the hand holding the ice pick into Dean's line of sight saying with a smile. "This won't hurt a bit."

Dean's horrified eyes stared at the descending ice pick, trying desperately to break the invisible force holding him in its grip.

"No…No." He squeezed out between gritted teeth.

The ice pick came closer and closer to his wide staring eye; it was only an inch away when the loud report of a shot gun echoed around him. The spirit above him disintegrated and rock salt showered down on his head and face.

Drawing in huge lung full's of air Dean turned his head to the right, and saw his savior Sam, still holding the shot gun up at the spot the spirit had been moments before.

Sam cocked his head to one side and said with a slight smile as he waved the shot gun in Dean's direction. "Aren't you glad I bought this?"

Finally recovering his breath Dean said. "Don't you dare say I told you so," then when Sam made no move to approach added, "are you gonna help me up or you gonna stand there all night gloating?"

Sam picked his way across the rubble strewn floor to Dean and put down his hand pulling Dean to his feet much like Dean had done to him minutes earlier.

"You okay Sammy?"

"Yeah you?"

"I'm good."

Apart from bruised backs neither brother had any major injuries from the spirit's attack.

"Let's get the hell outta' here before he comes back to finish the job." Sam offered.

"Absolutely." Dean agreed.

They made their way as quickly as possible to the stairs and out of the asylum.

Reaching the car Dean spoke.

"We'll have to locate Franklin's remains salt and burn 'em, and get rid of that son of a bitch for good."

Sam nodded and said. "Guess those beers will have to wait then huh."

"'Fraid so, we'll keep 'em on ice until we finish this."

_**Monday Afternoon at the Athens Public Library, Athens Ohio**_

They had been at the library most of the morning. Now the early afternoon found them still scanning through the – _**Births, Deaths and Marriages **_records, looking for Dr. William Franklin's place of burial.

Dean closed another huge file and reached for the next one with a sigh of frustration, saying loudly.

"You'd think they'd get into the twenty-first century and have all this stuff put on a data base."

Sam looked up from the file he was reading to Dean across the large wooden desk.

"Shssh, just keep looking."

Opening the cover of the next file, Dean let the heavy hard cover drop onto the desk with a loud thump; the librarian looked in his direction and shook her head then put her bony finger against her lip in a gesture of silence.

"Dean quit it." Sam said annoyed, going back to reading.

"I hate this, Sam."

"I know I heard you the first thousand times you've said it since we've been here." Sam answered without looking up from the book he was reading.

"It's sooo boring." Dean said flipping over a page.

Looking up Sam felt a pang of concern at Dean's tired face. He knew Dean hadn't slept for at least five nights. It showed in the dark circles under his eyes and his paler than usual complexion.

"Why don't you go and get us some coffee? I'll keep looking." Sam offered.

"Really?"

"Yeah go on, take a break."

Dean glanced at the librarian, then at the sign on the counter –

**NO FOOD OR BEVERAGES ARE ALLOWED TO BE BROUGHT INTO OR TO BE CONSUMED IN THE LIBRARY**

"How am I gonna get it past the ice maiden?"

"Use the Dean Winchester charm."

"Don't think even I could charm her." Dean said glancing at the sour-faced librarian.

"You'll think of something now go."

Dean made his way to the exit, giving the librarian one of characteristic smiles as he passed the counter.

He thought he saw a slight lift in her stony expression. _This might just work._

Thirty minutes later Dean returned with a takeout container of coffee for Sam Held under his leather jacket and out of sight of the librarian. Not willing to push his luck he had drunk his outside.

Dean sat with his back to the counter blocking the librarian's view of Sam and produced the cup from under his jacket. "There you go."

"Where's yours?" Sam asked stealing a glance at the librarian before taking the lid off the cup.

"Drunk it outside, you find anything yet?"

"Nope not yet." He answered taking a drink from the steaming cup.

Dean slid the discarded file he'd left open towards him and resumed scanning the entries.

Both were silent for awhile as they worked at the files, Sam taking sips at the coffee.

"I got it." Dean said his finger jabbing at the page he was viewing.

"Wanna share with the class Dean?" Sam said looking askance at him.

Dean turned the file towards Sam, he read from where Dean's finger had indicated.

_**Dr. William Peter Franklin**_

_**DOB: September 9 1909**_

_**DOD: April 17 1996**_

_**Interred at: **_

_**The Alexander Cemetery**_

_**Hebbardsville Road Athens, Ohio**_

_**Plot No. : 415**_

Dean smiled at Sam. "We've got work to do, Sammy, but first things first," Dean pushed up from the table, "lunch I need a cheese burger and fries."

Sam shoved the now empty cup into the pocket of his jacket and got to his feet, following Dean towards the exit.

Dean gave the stony-faced ice maiden another megawatt smile as he passed. Noting the ever so slight loosening of her expression.

_Yep definitely melting, you still got it Winchester._

_**Monday Evening at the Alexander Cemetery, Athens Ohio**_

Storm clouds had gathered as the sun set accompanied with rolls of thunder and flashes of lightning becoming more frequent as they drove to the cemetery.

The rain started as they drove through the cemetery gates.

As they trudged through the cemetery it soon became a downpour with a light show accompanied by a symphony orchestra with an excellent bass section. They were both soon soaked to the skin.

The grass squelched and sucked at their boots with every step. A sudden gust of wind sent an icy sheet of rainwater into their exposed faces.

"It should be around here somewhere." Dean said shining the flash light onto the nearby headstones.

"Just our luck it hasn't rained the whole two weeks we've been in Athens and tonight because we gotta dig up Franklin it's a full on thunder storm." Sam grumbled as he also shone his flash light around the headstones.

A flash of lightning lit up the cemetery and thunder rolled around the headstones.

"Yahtzee." Dean said as he threw the duffle bag onto the ground beside a well maintained grave with a large ornate marble headstone, proclaiming it to be the final resting place of,

_**Dr. WILLIAM P FRANKLIN**_

_**9-9-1909 **__**–**__** 4-17-1996**_

_**SADLY MISSED**_

Without another word, they started to dig, spades getting heavier as the soil mixed with the rain that continued to fall turning it to mud.

After twenty minutes, when their spades finally struck the lid of the casket, they were covered in a coating of mud and breathing hard.

Sam climbed laboriously out of the grave, the rain turning the sides of the grave slick and slippery running with rivers of mud. His clothes weighing him down with the extra weight of the rain and mud; even his longer legs didn't seem to help him lever himself out of the hole.

Dean handed his spade up to Sam with one hand and took the axe from Sam with the other hand.

With a couple of blows from the sharp axe Dean broke through the casket lid, uncovering what remained of Franklin.

Another flash of lightning and the glow from the flashlight allowed Dean to see Franklin's body clearly.

Parchment like skin and wisps of hair clung to his skull, the burial suit was darkened and worn through in places.

The rain fell through the broken lid of the casket onto Franklin's remains, the rain causing the bones to darken and the wisps of hair to flatten against the grinning skull. Looking upon the remains of his tormentor, Dean felt a trickle of rain water run down his neck followed by a shiver of cold. The rivulet of water traced a path down his spine to blend with the mud and rain already soaking his clothes.

Sam reached a hand down and Dean grasped hold digging the toes of his boots into the weakened wet sides of the grave aiming for some kind of purchase. Sam dug his heels into the grass and leaned back to prevent the both of them from sliding back into the muddy hole. The mud seemed to be trying to suck Dean back down in with Franklins remains.

Dean was eventually lying on the edge of the grave, his face turned towards the falling rain as he regained his breath.

Sam tapped him on the chest sending up spurts of water asking. "You okay?"

"Yeah, you got the salt and the lighter fluid."

Lightning and thunder increased in intensity flashing and rolling around them, illuminating the canister of salt and small tin of lighter fluid Sam had taken from the duffle while Dean was in the grave breaking open the casket.

Dean flipped the top on the salt canister upending it; a thunk sounded from inside the canister as the contents tipped up to the open end.

"Damn it the salts wet."

Taking out his knife Dean cut through the canister dropping the knife on the edge of the hole he scooped out handfuls of salt throwing each handful into the grave spreading it as best as he could over the bones.

Sam had better luck with the lighter fluid, squirting the contents of the small can onto the bones and the surrounding casket.

Dean joined Sam at the foot of the grave taking the match book from his pocket and holding it up looking unbelieving at the soggy mess.

"Sam we got another problem, the matches are wet."

"Give one a try you might be able to get it to light."

Dean struck one and then a second both failed to strike before the waterlogged matchbook disintegrated falling onto the sopping grass.

The wind picked up again, the lightning flashes almost constant the rain was swirling in a circular motion over Franklin's grave. Before their horrified eyes Franklin's ghostly form ice pick in hand appeared in the swirling wind and rain hovering above the open grave.

Without a word Sam bent reaching for the salt gun on the ground beside him his fingers barely brushed the wooden stock before he felt himself lifted just like in the asylum and Sam felt his body hurtle backwards his short flight ended abruptly as his back connected hard against an eight foot tall stone angel on one of the nearby graves. The back of his head slammed against the hard stone. His world darkened as ungraciously he slid down the angel coming to rest in a slumped heap at the angel's feet; he slid sideways propped between the base and the wet grass as darkness closed in consuming him.

It had happened so fast. One second Sam was standing beside him and the next he was flying through the air, his back connecting with a tall angel statue before he slipped to the ground and lay still slumped against the base.

"_SAMMY!"_ Dean shouted turning quickly and taking a step towards Sam's slumped unmoving form.

One step was as far as got towards his unconscious brother. The swirling vortex that had surrounded Franklin's spirit moved and descended on him dragging him backwards. His body was pitched backwards the heels of his boots scrapped across the muddy edge of the grave pulling grass and mud into the grave. Dean felt his left shoulder dislocate as it impacted hard with the marble headstone. A spike of pain radiated from his neck down his arm. He cried out as he fell forwards into the open grave, coming to rest on his side against the broken casket lid; wooden splinters piercing his clothes and burying deep into the flesh of his hip and side, his nose assaulted by the odor of the rotting flesh and the lighter fluid soaking into the broken wood and the corpse inside.

More splinters embedded themselves in the palm of the hand on his uninjured arm as Dean pushed himself back and up folding his legs beneath him to sit on his heels balancing each knee on the side edges of the casket he then pulled his injured arm into his side holding it against his body with the now splinter encrusted hand.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the interior of the grave illuminating something shiny half buried in the mud to the left of the casket. It was his knife he must have dragged it into the grave with his feet during his short but painful journey. Reluctantly letting go of his injured arm he reached awkwardly across his body, his fingers brushed the handle, he had to reach further before he grasped the handle holding it tightly the action pushing and embedding the splinters further into his palm.

Dean lifted his eyes to the lip of the grave blinking rapidly to clear the persistent fat drops rain from his eyes; staring like a deer in the headlights at Franklin's spirit hovering menacingly above the foot of his own grave.

Franklin's mouth split in a wicked grin and ghostly laughter echoed around the walls of the grave, in the fraction of a second it took for another lightning flash to light up the cemetery Franklin was in the grave in front of him his head and shoulders level with Dean's, the bottom half of his body from the hips down disappearing into the casket; in one hand was the object Dean had seen too many times the deadly ice pick.

"Son of a bitch." Dean growled as he scooted back on his knees, his knife still clutched in his hand pain from his dislocated shoulder shooting down his all but useless arm.

Franklin lifted his hand and Dean was thrown back against the muddy wet wall at the head of the grave, the pain this time so intense it stole his breath away. Heavy mud filled water dribbled down from above running down his face and trickling down his neck as Franklin held him there with invisible force.

Drifting eerily towards him on unseen ghostly legs, Franklin stopped immediately in front of him staring into Dean's eyes and then for the first time that night the spirit spoke.

"There will be no escape this time, I _will _finish your treatment, you must see young man it's for your own good, now hold still this won't hurt a bit."

Dean once again found himself staring at the tip of the ice pick as Franklin lifted his arm. One of the central subjects of his nightmares came closer and closer towards his eye.

Dean tried to lift the knife in self defense. Even the knowledge that knives were no use against ghosts and spirits did deter him; he had to try something. But to his alarm he was unable to move a muscle; his hand trembled with the effort. Above outside the confines of the grave mingling with the cacophony of the storm Sam was calling out his name.

He wanted desperately to call out to Sam to tell him he was here, but even his vocal cords seemed paralyzed as he continued to struggle against Franklin's ethereal force.

Sam came too wondered why he was soaking wet and lying in a cold puddle of water. Then his memory came rushing back; the cemetery, thunder, lightning, rain and then Franklin's spirit appearing and then he was flying through the air. The back of his head hurt, he put the tips of shaking fingers to the spot and wasn't at all surprised when in a flash of lightning they were coated in red, which quickly turned pink as it mixed with the rain and ran away between his fingers.

Sam got slowly to his feet looking at Franklin's grave. _Where__'__s Dean?_

"Dean…. _Dean_**!**" Sam yelled out as loud as he could to be heard above the noise of the storm.

Using the base of the angel statue he was slumped against Sam pushed himself to his feet hurried towards Franklin's grave the wet grass slippery under foot. He scooped up the rock salt gun on the way. Skidding to a stop on the sopping grass at the edge he looked down.

Dean, his favorite Bowie knife in hand was on his knees his back pressed back against the crumbling wet soil at the head of the ruined casket. The hand clutching the knife shook with effort as he tried to lift it to defend himself against Franklin. To Sam's horror he could see Franklin was again wielding the ice pick lowering it slowly towards Dean's unprotected eye.

In one movement Sam aimed and fired the salt gun at Franklin's semi-transparent back.

The spirit dispersed into the wet air of the grave, wet clumps of salt falling onto Dean's chest and the broken lid of the casket.

In yet another flash of lightning, Sam saw that Dean hadn't moved and was still on his knees his back pressed against the wall a waterfall of muddy water showering him, chest heaving as he looked up at Sam his eyes blinking against the persistent rain falling into his eyes, his hair plastered to his head.

"What…kept… you?" Dean huffed out breathlessly.

Sam smiled. "Sorry, I was just a little preoccupied with an angel."

Dean gave a brief grimace saying. "Dude I popped my shoulder, I don't think I can climb outta here."

"There's some rope in the car, I'll be right back." Sam turned away

"Sam." Dean's weary voice made him turn back.

Sam looked down at his brother. "What?"

"There's a lighter in the glove compartment."

"Okay."

Sam turned away again, then he heard Dean call out again.

"Sam."

"What?"

"Hurry up before Franklin gets back."

"Dude if you call me back again I'll let him have you."

Without waiting for a trademark smartass Dean Winchester come back Sam ran back to the Impala, his feet sending up small fountains of water with each step.

Taking the rope from the trunk and the finding the lighter after having to pull all the contents of the glove compartment out onto the floor he ran back to Dean.

Noting as he ran that the worst of the storm had passed.

Dean had moved and was now standing against the side of the grave. Sam knotted the rope and threw it down to him. Dean handed the knife up to Sam then using his good arm pulled the looped rope over his head before lifting the injured one through pulling the rope tight under his arms. He took hold of the rope above the loop higher up.

"Okay."

Dean braced his feet against the wall trying to help Sam as much as he was able his useless arm and shoulder made it impossible to use it for leverage.

The air of filled with grunts and groans of effort, after what felt like an eternity Dean's head appeared over the lip of the grave Sam kept tension on the rope with one hand and grabbed the back of Dean's jacket with the other hauling him up and out onto the grass.

Dean rolled onto his back allowing Sam to untie the rope from around his chest.

"You alright bro?" Sam asked noting the lines of pain around Dean's mouth.

"I'm good. Did you get the lighter?"

Sam dug around in his pocket and produced the lighter holding it up in front of Dean, a smile on his face his wet bangs hanging down across his forehead in clumps and curling into large inverted commas.

Out of thin wet air Franklin materialized behind Sam.

"Sam behind you."

At Dean's warning Sam half turned. Franklin's hand shot out catching Sam across the cheek flinging him sideways; the force of the blow rolling Sam away from Dean to lie still, face up on the grass. Sam's out flung hand was towards Dean his fingers still lightly curled around the silver lighter.

Franklin was on Dean in a flash, one cold pale hand pressing against Dean's forehead and the other holding the ice pick close to his eye.

For the second time that night Dean felt himself held by Franklin's strong eerie steely force.

Franklin leaned in his pale almost transparent face close to his. Dean could smell rotting flesh in the ice cold mist of his breath as he said in a whisper. "No more interruptions, it's time to finish what I started over forty years ago."

Dean slid his eyes towards Sam realizing that the lighter was in reach of his injured arm, pain flared in his shoulder radiating down his arm as he worked his fingers across the wet grass separating him from his brother. Then he felt the brush of Sam's long fingertips.

His eyes now back on the ice pick that was so close he had to cross his eyes to keep it in sight. His groping finger tips touched the cold metal of the lighter nestled in Sam's palm; Dean grasped it, white hot pain shooting from his shoulder into his collar bone and down his arm as he flipped the top and flicked the wheel just as the tip of the ice pick touched the corner of his eye; He felt heat on the thumb holding down the tiny lever beside the wheel. Lifting his pain filled arm and with a groan of agony Dean threw the lighter over the edge of the grave. There was a whoosh as the fluid caught the flame. In his peripheral vision Dean saw flames begin to lick at the edge of the grave.

Dean tried to close his eyes as the pressure of the ice pick piercing his eye increased for a second and then it just stopped.

Franklin's smile turned to a look of shock as he burst into flame, Dean felt heat on his face and a burning sensation on his forehead where a moment ago Franklin's hand had been, but Franklin was gone as was the force pressing him into the soggy ground.

Dean pulled his injured arm into his side held it there before pushing his aching, hurting body into a sitting position. He drag/crawled his way to Sam's side. Sam had a livid red mark across his cheek in the shape of Franklin's hand.

A moment later Sam's hazel eyes flickered open and focused on Dean's wet mud covered face; grasping handfuls of Dean's jacket he sat up quickly his head almost connecting with Dean's nose.

"Dean!"

"Whoa, take it easy tiger…. last thing I need is a broken nose, he then added in a concerned voice, "you okay Sammy?"

"I'm good….what'd I miss, where's Franklin?" Sam said glancing around and seeing the flames licking at the top of the grave. "Did you?" He added motioning towards the grave.

"Yep."

"It's over then huh?"

"Yeah it's over."

Sam noticed the strange slant of Dean's shoulder asking. "How's the shoulder?"

"Painful, let's clean up here and you can put it back in for me at the motel."

The storm was over. The rain had petered out and stopped altogether and now a watery looking crescent moon was peeking through the clouds as they made their way back to Impala.

After stowing everything in the trunk Dean tossed Sam the keys.

"You can drive, Sammy."

"I should think, seeing as there's no way you can."

"Whoa, hang on. We can't get into my Baby like this all this dirt and mud it's not good for the upholstery."

"Dean, you're all beat to hell and you're worrying about the upholstery."

"Hell yeah."

"Just get in Dean; I'll clean her up in the morning."

"You will? You'd do that for me?"

Sam pulled the door open. "Of course, you're my big brother and I'd do anything for you."

Dean smiled and held up his splintered palm. "No chick flick moments Sammy."

Sam slid in behind the wheel and pulled the door shut. "It's Sam."

_**To be continued…**_

One more chapter for recovery and to wrap up all the loose ends.

Thanks for reading, please review.

_Silvertayl 57_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter 1

_**Monday Evening at the Athens Memorial Hospital, Athens Ohio**_

"Sam this is not the motel." Dean growled angrily looking out over the wet parking lot at the brightly lit building.

"You think genius?" Sam returned snarkily.

"No way Sam take me back to the motel now."

"That shoulder needs proper attention Dean, it's too bad for me to even attempt to put in. I mean what if I pinched a nerve or something?" Sam said trying to make Dean see reason.

Dean half turned to Sam, trying to hide the wince of pain that accompanied any sort of movement no matter how small.

"It's never happened before. You can do it, I know you can, let's go back to the motel," Dean pleaded trying on his version of Sam's puppy dog eyes.

Sam saw the look and his face softened a little before his lips drew together in a determined line and he shook his head, "I see what you're doing and it won't work."

He opened the door getting out. Dean watched as he rounded the front of the Impala, yanking open the door on Dean's side.

"Get out Dean or I'll go get a gurney."

"That's blackmail Sam."

"And your point is?"

"Oh alright... bullying an injured man," Dean swung his legs out of the car with a hiss of pain. "No one likes a bully Sam."

Sam took no notice of Dean's slight on his character taking his uninjured arm in a firm grip and helping him out of the car.

Dean leaned against the front panel as Sam closed the door and then took Dean's arm again gently encouraging him towards the hospital entrance.

By the time they entered the ER doors Sam was almost dragging his brother.

"I can't believe you made me come here, Sam," Dean grumbled under his breath, "what are we gonna tell 'em?"

"I'll think of something, now come on."

Dean pulled back so Sam tightened his grip on Dean's good arm.

"Oh no you don't we're staying until someone looks at that shoulder and some of those splinters in your hand are the size of pylons and really deep."

Dean's somewhat uncomplimentary comeback was cut off by a familiar voice.

"Sam, Dean what are you two doing here again?" Millie asked coming towards them a smile on her face, "you're not injured again?" she added the smile fading.

Dean stopped trying to pull out of the strong grip Sam had on his arm and turned his eyes to the floor.

"Millie hi. I'm afraid we've had a bit of an accident," Sam answered, smiling lopsidedly at the red head, "We err got caught in the storm Dean tripped and fell and I got hit by a falling branch, he paused dabbing at the still oozing cut on his cheek, "Dean's dislocated his shoulder and has some nasty splinters in his hand and side from where he landed."

Millie looked at Dean's scowling pain-filled expression face, "You'd better come in here I'll get someone to take a look."

Millie led them into exam room 2. "Wait here Dr. Davidson will be along shortly."

Dr. Davidson entered 5 minutes later accompanied by Millie.

"Millie told me you were back again; you two just can't stay away, can you?" Dr. Stanton said looking from one to the other.

"Looks that way, hey doc," Sam said.

From his place on the examination table Dean remained broodingly silent.

The doctor took in Dean's posture and the unusual slant of his shoulder, "Dean what have you done now?"

Speaking for the first time to the doctor Dean said, "We got caught in the storm, I tripped popped my shoulder out and I've got a few wood splinters that's all, nothing too serious, Sam insisted that we come."

"Well now that you are here let's take a look shall we?" Dr. Davidson helped Dean remove his wet jacket, shirt and t-shirt. He glanced at Sam adding, "I'll get Millie to have a look at that cut Sam."

As Millie was leading Sam out the door to another room Dean said loudly, "Hey Millie while you're at it, you'd better sew the crack on the back of his head up, coz I think his brain is leaking out."

"Very funny Dean," Sam said with a backwards glance as he left the room.

After Dr. Davidson had examined Dean's shoulder and where the splinters were embedded in his flesh, he gave Dean the news he so didn't want to hear.

"Well that shoulder has to be manipulated back in under a mild anesthetic and some of those splinters are so deep they'll have to be lanced and extracted at the same time."

"You're kiddin right?"

The stony expression he gave Dean as he stripped off his latex gloves were his answer.

"Oh come on doc, it isn't that bad. Can't you pop it back in now and pull out the splinters?"

"It's going to take a fair bit of manipulation to get it back in without causing any nerve or muscle damage not to mention that without anesthetic it would be extremely painful. I'm afraid that's how it has to be done."

"Damn it, I don't freakin believe it."

The doctor smiled at the whoa-be-gone look Dean gave him folding his arms across his chest.

"Now I want you to get out of the rest of those wet clothes and put this on," He placed a hospital gown on the bed next to Dean adding, "And you'll be admitted overnight, do you have any questions?"

"No, no questions, hey doc no offense but I've seen enough of you lately to last me a lifetime."

Dr. Davidson smiled again, "No offense taken; now get that gown on and excuse me while I go and organize a theatre and a bed upstairs."

After the doctor closed the door behind him Dean made his move. He took his still wet shirt and jacket in his splintered hand the wet fabric catching on the protruding wood and slid off the table, keeping his painful arm against his side he crossed the short distance to the door.

He was in the motion of reaching out to push the swinging door open, but instead stumbled back a step when the door suddenly swung in towards him and filling the doorway wearing hospital scrubs 2 butterfly strips over his cut cheek still damp hair brushed away from his forehead was Sam.

Sam stopped in the doorway not really surprised when he came face to face with his brother bare to the waist carrying his wet clothing in his hand. Sam didn't need Dr. Davidson to tell him when he'd met him in the hallway outside the room Dean currently occupied that he thought Dean had every intention to make a run for it. Sam stood his ground and crossed his arms over his broad chest, "Goin' somewhere Dean?"

Dean looked sheepish his eyes darted around the room looking everywhere except at Sam.

"No, what makes you think that?"

"Call it an educated guess. And I saw Dr. Davidson in the hall he told me you might try to pull a Steve McQueen."

"Me nar, besides I don't have a motor bike." Dean joked.

"Yeah right. Get back over there and put that gown on, you're staying," Sam pointed at the still folded gown on the end of the table.

"Ah come on Sam have a heart the doc said I have to be admitted overnight. I never agreed to that just to be put back together and then out of here."

"If the doc said that then like I said you're staying."

"Who died and made you Queen and what's with the getup," Dean eyed Sam's scrubs, "dude you joining the staff or what?"

Sam looked down at the scrubs he was wearing and then back at Dean.

"Millie made me put 'em on, said she didn't want me to catch cold, and don't try that distraction thing, get back over there now."

Dean turned and reluctantly went back to the bed, mumbling. "You say I'm bossy."

"You say something, Dean?"

"Me? No, nothing."

Sam had to abandon his guard on the door when it became painfully obvious that Dean was going to need help to remove his wet clothes.

Having one good arm was making it difficult for Dean to get his wet muddy boots and jeans off.

"Here let me help you," He said kindly as he moved towards Dean.

"Gee thanks for the help Judas when do you get your 30 pieces of silver?" Dean said sarcastically.

Sam took no notice of Dean's comment as he maneuvered Dean's jeans off.

When Dean was settled back on the bed now wearing the highly unflattering hospital gown, his wet clothes in a sad looking pile in the corner Sam resumed his position guarding the door effectively cutting off Dean's only escape route if he still tried to make a run for it.

Sam smiled to himself when a mental picture popped into his head. Dean running down the ER corridor towards the exit hospital gown flapping open at the back and his backside in full view to all and sundry.

"What's so funny?" Dean asked seeing the smile on Sam's face.

"Funny, nothings funny."

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Was I smiling?"

"Yeah, you were. You still are."

"I..." Sam began saved from any further explanation when an orderly came to take a sullen Dean to theatre.

"I'll see you in the morning oh and Dean?"

"What?"

"Behave."

"Thanks Judas..." Dean said as they wheeled him towards the elevator.

Sam waited until the elevator doors had closed behind the gurney carrying his brother before he left. Going back to the motel still dressed in the scrubs, his wet clothes in the plastic bag Millie had provided for him. A smile still on his face.

-ADIT-

Sam was up early the next morning. He had something important to do before he picked Dean up from the hospital after all he'd made his brother a promise. He found the location of the car wash from motel reception. It wasn't far and on the route to the hospital. Crystal Clear Car Cleaning and Detailing was jumping at 8 am. The staff already hard at work buzzing like worker bees around 2 cars with another 1 in the car wash. Dave the Crystal Clear desk clerk had admired Dean's girl saying. "You don't see many classic beauties like that anymore." Sam had agreed wholeheartedly. The wait Dave informed him would be 45 minutes before they could get to the Impala and another 30–45 minutes to clean and detail her. So Sam headed over to the attached café making sure he sat were he had a view of the Impala waiting her turn. He ordered bacon and eggs, a mass of toast and coffee scanning the newspaper he bought from box outside the café while he waited for his breakfast.

It was obviously too soon for the story of Franklin's disturbed grave to have made the morning edition but he did find a follow up story on the burning of the old asylum building. There was a photo of the burnt out building above the article which told of how the police and campus authorities were looking into the suspected arson and the police were investigating a few leads. This didn't particularly concern him because as soon as he had picked up Dean they would head on out of town. His breakfast arrived just after The Impala had been driven into the car wash. Taking his time over the breakfast he lingered over 3 refills of coffee watching the staff of the car wash detailing the inside of Dean's girl. When he thought they had nearly finished he drained the last of his coffee paid for his meal and made his way back across to the office just as The Impala was driven to the pick-up area. After paying Sam inspected the car. It was worth every cent and he was impressed with the job they had done. She was clean inside and out with no trace of mud, dirt or any blood that might have been on the upholstery or in the foot wells. He drove to the hospital breathing in the clean apple scented air freshener. Arriving at the hospital reception just before 11 am Sam enquired of Dean's room number. 3rd floor room 311. He made his way to the elevator and Dean's room.

-ADIT-

Dean was tired, pissed, needed a shave and to add insult to injury he hurt all over. His shoulder throbbed his head ached along with just about every muscle in his body. To top it off he felt hung over courtesy of yet another anesthetic.

A brusque tired-looking nurse had woken him from a less than restive slumber at 6 am taken his blood pressure and temperature handing him a small paper cup with 2 white pills in it and told him to take them. She scribbled on his chart as he had downed the pills and then left.

An hour later a breakfast tray had been brought in. It consisted of a small packet of corn flakes a small jug of tepid milk, anemic looking toast that looked like it had been waved over the toaster a small packet of margarine and one of strawberry jelly. Trying to open the packet of cereal and to peel back the lids and spread the anemic toast with the condiments one-handed was difficult and frustrating. Hence he ended up with most of the soggy milky cereal dribbling down the front of his gown and prickly, annoying toast crumbs on the inside of the gown.

Another hour went by before the ward doctor had come by and after examining him briefly he had told him he could get dressed and he was being discharged to take it easy for the next couple of days and to see his GP in a week.

Dean had assured him he would even though he had no intention if he had any say in the matter of seeing another doctor in the near future and besides he and Sam moved around so much they didn't have a GP. But the doctor didn't need to know that. Deciding he couldn't stand the hospital gown for another minute he tried valiantly but without success to dress himself. The shoulder sling and the bandages on his other hand made it impossible. He'd been trying for what felt like hours to pull on his jeans and he couldn't even put on his watch_. What the hell is keeping Sam? He knew I was being discharged this morning. He should be here by now._

He heard movement at the door, looking up as Sam finally walked in. "Hey," Sam greeted him cheerily as he walked across the room to stand beside the bed.

-ADIT-

Entering Dean's room Sam found his grumpy, grumbling brother still wearing the white with a blue pattern shapeless hospital gown, his left arm in a special sling to immobilize his arm and shoulder his right hand bandaged.

Dean was perched on the side of the bed, cursing under his breath as he tried with his bandaged hand to unsuccessfully pull his now dry jeans over his bare feet.

Dean looked up at Sam, "Sam. Thank God. 'Bout time you got here, of all the mornings to sleep in you pick today. Help me get dressed will yah?" Then added, "They said I could leave when I was dressed, I've been trying to get these damned jeans on for ages."

"Good morning Dean it's nice to see you too," Sam said as he moved towards the bed.

Sam maneuvered the hospital gown off around the sling. Apart from the bandages around his hand there were fresh white bandages on his hip.

Dean had to slip his arm out of the sling so that Sam could help him on with the now dry and neatly folded clothes. Sam gently put his arm back into the sling once he was dressed.

This time as they left the hospital there was no fan fair and they didn't attract every nurse in the hospital.

When they reached the Impala, Dean ran his bandaged hand over the hood.

"Ah baby it's good to see you it's been a rough night."

"Just a night? I think it's been a rough couple of weeks," Sam said.

"Well now that you mention it…"

Sam was prepared for Dean to put up a fight about driving but to his surprise Dean went straight around to the passenger side.

When he opened the door his face lit up with a smile.

Ducking his head to look inside Dean noted with pleasure that Sam had kept his word and the inside of his baby was clean with not a sign of mud or dirt anywhere. The floor was clean and the old, worn and cracked upholstery was clean and dry. Plus she smelled like apples.

Dean straightened up and looked at Sam over the top of the car.

Sam was smiling. He cocked his head to one side saying, "I hope it meets with your master's approval."

"It's great Sam, thanks."

"Don't mention it, jerk," Sam was smiling a typical Sam smile.

Seeing that smile Dean couldn't help it his face split into a grin.

"Bitch," He replied, "let's put this place in the review mirror and get the hell outta' Dodge."

They got into Dean's precious baby and although he wasn't behind the wheel; as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot onto the street Dean felt that for the time being at least all was right in the crazy, strange world of the Winchester's.

**~~ THE END ~~**


End file.
